The Petrozians
“Some people can’t figure out when they’re the clown and that it’s all a circus.”
Mama, Xavi has lost it. They’ve got him all penned up at the kookaburra’s hut. Four men in white suits came by and told him that it was time for him to take a rest. And we all know what that means. He takes these things too seriously. I’ll tell you my side as I see it, but also you probably want to watch the stream too. Someday I hope we’ll all be able to watch together and laugh, but I think you should come to the hospital at Dazmara and see about Xavi. The doctors won’t tell me when he’s getting out, but I think they’ll talk to you.
Everything went downhill when the rules changed. The contest regulations were clear for over two years as Xavi was developing Shimi—there were two divisions. He was developing an entirely new type of animal from a genome he wrote from scratch. And we were winning. We knew we were in the top three. At the very least, Xavi was going to win a grant to keep developing the program.
But then, because one of the contest’s key sponsors dropped out in the final weeks, they folded the two separate divisions into the final contest—and then they turned it into a circus! So it wasn’t Xavi versus the other geneticists anymore. It was him versus them and nature, because they allowed the adaptive genetics division to compete with the entirely scripted creatures. Even then, Shimi might have beaten the chicken and the caterpillar. Everything would’ve been fine until that cat came along.
It wasn’t fair. And that comedian made everything much worse. Like I said, a circus.
You always said it was a silly dream, that nobody would want to buy animals, especially ones designed for space. And maybe you’re right about a lot of people, but since I came to Athos with Xavi, I learned that there are a lot of people out here looking for a space pet, even if it’s not most spaceship pilots.
Many drivers don’t have crews. They go out solo for weeks at a time. It gets lonely out there without a companion. And sure, a lot of them get bots or friendship programs so they can talk to an AI like a person. But still, some people need to feel something alive beside them. And say what you want about Shimi, good or bad—that comedian sure did—but you know she’s a living being traveling through the cosmos with you, and she’s on your side, through and through. She may not be the prettiest creature, but at least you can feel her there.
Anyway, when they cut the prize in half and folded the two divisions together, the organizers felt like they needed some publicity to keep what little hype was still out there for the program. They made so many mistakes. But the contest. That was really what drove Xavi over the edge.
Rather than explaining everything, I figure it’d be easier just to include the footage. Some stuff happened after that made everything worse, but I think you should watch the stream first, Mama.
[Stream Intro Jingle Plays]
Hello, and welcome out there, folks! I’m Giom Chambie. I’ll be your host today, and we’re bringing you a special event here from the Zair Octant on the planetary ring of Athos, the seat of civilization in the Battery Systems. Today’s special event, brought to us by the fine people at the Intervetia corporation here in Shalinor-Zair has been years in the making.
Before we get going, I’m going to cover a few of the basics. We’re streaming this event live for all the fine people of Athos, and of course, there’s a little delay for our friends on Iophos. The rest of you out there in the Battery Systems will be seeing this stream pre-recorded, and those of you on the deep-space C-Stream will be getting the audio-only version of the show, of course, so for those of you watching wondering why I, Giom Chambie, am describing the events happening in such detail, I’d beg your patience, as I’m describing things as best I can for our friends out there in deep-space. And today’s event, if I dare say so, is really for them.
First, I’d like to welcome Maiyra Devonaiya, who is the chief public affairs coordinator for Intervetia and the organizer of today’s contest.
Hi, Giom. It’s a pleasure to be here to kick off this contest. It’s been years in the making now, and we at Intervetia are thrilled it’s finally here.
Right. So tell us please, Maiyra, how would you describe what we’re all here to witness today?
Well, we’re a genetics corporation, of course, primarily agriculture. If you’re on Athos or Iophos, you probably have eaten a lot of our produce. One of our engineers, who grew up out in the Letters—he’d spent his life traveling back and forth between two systems quite often when his parents separated, and he sometimes got lonely on those flights. He expressed his desire to have a pet he could travel with on those long transits, but as we all know, animals don’t tend to do so well in space for long stretches. So in his spare time here at Intervetia, he started dabbling in designing a pet for space travel. And he got so much positive feedback that we decided to open up a contest to the public. Today, what we’re all going to witness is the culmination of our screening process, from hundreds of proposals down to the three best viable entries from our two categories. The first category is for genetic adaptations, so that would be for animals whose basic genetics evolved on Earth, and our contestants in this category have used these basic blueprints and altered these amazing animals to serve as suitable companions in space.
So space pets, Maiyra?
Yes, that’s right, Giom.
And what is our second category of contestants, please, Maiyra?
The second category is for completely novel genetic creatures. So we’re going to be meeting some animals today that humans have never seen before, Giom. It’s really exciting.
You do sound excited. My goodness. That’s excellent.
Yes.
Okay, well, thank you. Maiyra Devonaiya from Intervetia.
Next up we’re going to meet our judges. What contest would be complete without an expert panel of judges to declare a winner. The winner is going to be awarded a grant from Intervetia to develop their genetic prototype into a differentiated line of space pets for sale here in Dreeson’s System and eventually all over the Battery. So our judges here today will help decide what sort of pets all the viewers and listeners out there in deep space might be able to bring aboard their spaceships in the near future. Exciting.
Our first judge today is a very popular comedian here in Dreeson’s and Carrol’s Systems. You all know him and love to laugh with him. He’s Vaiyon the Bald.
Giom. Uhm, Giom. I think you read that wrong, pal. That’s Vaiyon the Bold.
It’s Bald? Bald, no? It says—
No. Bold, friend. I don’t know why you’re being like that, trying to embarrass me in front of the whole system.
But I’m looking at the script—the prompter—you can come read it yourself. I mean, I’m sorry ... but you do also look ...
Yeah, no, I know I’m bald, Giom, but you don’t need to point that out to like, the entirety of humanity, which is fun. With these looks, my self-esteem is already through the roof, you know.
Genuinely, Vaiyon. My deepest apologies. I didn’t mean to—
Yeah, no. I’m messing with you, Giom. It’s Bald. I’m bald. See how the name kinda fits like that—Vaiyon the Bald. I’m bald.
Okay. Well, thank you, Vaiyon the Bald, everyone. Our first carefully screened and, no doubt, extremely discerning jurist. This is shaping up to be a great panel already.
Next up, we have a real expert in the field. Professor of Genetics at City University of Moses-Mesui … Tamikke Hinchkukie? Am I saying that correctly, Professor.
Hinch-cooky.
Right, Professor Hinch-cookie. Well, professor, it’s shaping up to be a very interesting competition.
Interesting, yes.
Of course. Can you tell us what you’ll be looking for today as an expert judge? What sort of considerations?
Something good. Which ones are good, Giom.
Right. We’ll be looking for the good ones. Again, another esteemed panelist here to be judging this contest in what would seem to be a fair and objective manner totally befitting a multi-billion-cronor interstellar genetics corporation like Intervetia. So happy to have your expertise, Professor.
And last but certainly not least, we have, representing the space travelers of the Battery, Captain Vyper Celestin Rex of Beta-Coronado, who is a deep-space captain of a mid-sized cruiser called the Scourge of Gracia, which seems a bit of an aggressive name.
What? My name? You’ve got a problem with my name? What’s wrong with my name?
No! Certainly not, Captain Rex.
Call me Vyper.
Oh. Vyper, yes. No, sir, Vyper. Your ship’s name ... it sounds very ... formidable! Yes! With a name like that, it must be a very capable and dependable ship.
It’s a bucket of bolts.
And no doubt it gets lonely out there in the depths of space on the Scourge of Gracia. I bet you’re in the market for a cute and fuzzy little space pet to ride along with you, Vyper.
Don’t bet on it.
And what makes you so interested in judging our finalists today, Vyper, if you’re not necessarily interested in a pet yourself?
The 10,000 D-Cr the lady there offered me to sit at that table for a few hours and talk. She said it was a job. And we Rexes never turn down a job.
Oh, boy, Giom. I don’t think you want to ask Vyper Rex about his other jobs, man.
What’s that, Vaiyon? Vaiyon the Bald again, everyone.
I said like, whoa, Giom. I’m no expert in deep-space travel or nothing. But Vyper here, I’m pretty sure he has, let’s call it a loose interpretation of astronautical law. Might’ve left a few bodies floating out there in the Letters, if you know what I mean.
What are you saying, little man? You don’t think I’m a legitimate captain?
No. No. I’m not saying anything like that at all, friend. And I’m definitely not trying to imply that you’re a space pirate. All legitimate business from top to bottom. We all have no doubts.
All right, moving on now from our excellent panel of, let’s call it tremendously diverse skillsets and expertise, to our first contestant, who comes all the way from the Indie colony of Dana Point.
His name is ... Dear God, is that ...? Give me a moment, please. Aish-takūs-ti—
Aistakūstilli.
Aish-takū ...
Aistakūstilli Heliakumenalongu.
Aish …
Aish-takū-steelee, Giom.
Aish-takū-steelee. Excellent. Welcome.
You’re not even going to try to say my last name properly, Giom?
I haven’t embarrassed myself enough already, Aish ... Aish-takū-steelee? ... I mean, I guess ... Helia-ku-men—
You can call me Takū, Giom.
Takū! Thank you. It’s great to have you here with us Takū, and you’ve brought with you today your adapted ... well, it looks to me like an adapted chicken.
You have a very good eye, Giom. She is a chicken.
Right. So Takū is here with his chicken, which you call?
Hen.
Your chicken is named Hen? Great. Making things easy on one front, I see. Well done, Takū.
She’s not a chicken, though, Giom.
No? I thought you just agreed that she was a chicken, Takū?
Space chicken.
A space chicken, I see. And what makes Hen a space chicken, Takū?
We gave her some genes so she goes flying around. It’s good for space, cuz everyone is just floating there. You don’t have to help her get around or nothing.
Flying genes ... I see ... that’s not like ... you do realize regular chickens can fly right, Takū?
I don’t know if you should think that deep with this guy, Giom.
Vaiyon the Bald again, everyone.
Yeah, I’m thinking we should just let it be a space chicken and see how things go from here.
Great suggestion, Vaiyon. We have footage from the test flight. We’re going to cue that up now in the producer’s room. Takū’s space chicken takes flight in 3 ... 2 ...
Control room that’s your cue.
… I guess we shouldn’t expect much from them either.
Thank you Vaiyon for your—
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying spaceflight montage]
Whoa! There’s that space chicken! She really got right up on that lens there, eh, Takū?
Yes.
(chicken begins clucking …)
So, Takū? What are we looking at here? This is Hen’s first flight in space?
Right.
She don’t look like she’s doing so good.
Yes, thank you, Vaiyon, it looks like Hen is having a little trouble ...
She’s all over the place.
Upside down. Sideways now.
Cattywampus.
Buck-aawwk!!!
She don’t sound so good either, Giom. Whoa!
She does look like she’s having a hard time negotiating weightlessness, Takū.
Baaawwk!!!
Pop.
Was that?
I think your space chicken just laid a egg, Takū? Does that camera pan out?
It’s recorded, Vaiyon, we can’t really—
Oh, there it is. Whaaaat?
(space chicken continues clucking …)
It doesn’t look like it’s going so well for Hen, Takū. Wouldn’t you say?
She’s fine.
She’s all upside down and all over the place, brother.
I think I agree with Vaiyon, Takū. Hen seems to be struggling.
Breakfast.
What’s that now, Captain Vyper?
Breakfast. Eggs for breakfast. Chicken for dinner.
Yeah, but no breakfast tomorrow if you go that route. You didn’t think that one all the way through there, Captain ... I’m going to shut up now, Giom.
That’s probably not a bad idea, Vaiyon. Incidentally, Captain Vyper, what do you think of a chicken flailing around your ship like that laying eggs in zero-G? That’s probably not a great combination.
Not if it gets in the rear intake. You don’t want egg yolk in the control arm to the fusion reactor.
Yeah, that seems like good common sense, Captain. Now, Takū, did you think to maybe alter Hen’s egg laying genes as opposed to, say, her obviously enhanced flying ability—
BAAAWWWKK!
Pop.
Oh, no.
Oh, man she’s upside down again.
Thank you, Vaiyon. Yes. Hen seems to be struggling still. That’s going to … yes, let’s close the montage there.
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
That did not go well, brother. That chicken is not going to win.
Space chicken.
Yes, thank you, Takū. Hen the space chicken. We’re going to check in for your scores now.
Okay, Vaiyon, you gave Hen …? I’m looking at your scores …. Oh, a total sixty-eight points out of a possible one hundred fifty?
I went by the chart, Giom. Gotta be fair, right? Space chicken, she’s a handsome animal whenever she’s upright, she’s good fun, give you a few laughs. You’ll get some eggs out of the deal—that’s some bonus points there. I don’t know about the genetics. That’s more the professor’s thing.
Professor Hinch-cookie?
Kukie.
Yes, Hinch … kukie. Professor, how did you rate Takū’s space chicken?
I gave it a four, Giom.
Four out of a hundred fifty, Professor? That seems low even for that rather adventurous display.
Genetically, that’s a chicken, Giom. It’s not really any different to a regular chicken.
So you’re saying ...?
Mr. Takū, well ... there are some gene edits that I was able to assess, but essentially all this did was change a few of her feathers from brown to white, and more or less, other than that it’s a chicken.
And chickens don’t do so well in space, Giom. I guess we all learned something today. So there’s that.
I should say so, Vaiyon. And what about you, Captain Vyper Rex? How did you rate our ... well, not so ready for space space chicken.
Fifty.
You gave it fifty points? Any particular reason, Captain?
I would eat it.
All right, well there you have it. Handsome and edible too. Hen the space chicken. That’s a total of one hundred twenty-two points from our panel of expert judges, Takū. Thank you and good luck. Let’s bring out our next guest.
Oh, man. You’re so pissed off right now, Giom. I can see it. You’re going to murder your agent.
No, no, Vaiyon. I’m just thrilled to be a part of this ... exciting and unique event, brought to us by the good folks at Intervetia.
This is a slow, flaming shipwreck, brother. You thought this was going to be some traditional corporate gig, didn’t you? For me this is like on-brand, and, I gotta say I’m loving it—space chicken, pirates, Professor Space-Cookie over here—
It’s Hinchkukie, for the fifth time.
Sure, lady, whatever you say. But, Giom, Giom, I can hear your career prospects flaming as they plummet and crash into a gigantic crater in the background, like—
No. No, it’s ... good fun, Vaiyon.
Kaboooooom!! Ha ha!
Right. Okay. Let’s move on to our next entry. Please God, let’s keep this show moving.
Oh, this is beautiful.
Couldn’t agree, more, Vaiyon. And speaking of beautiful, we have our next geneticist Dr. Sha-Lin Erro, who’s from Vaiyon’s home moon of Hellenia, and unlike Takū’s space chicken, Dr. Erro has created her pet’s genetics from scratch. And ... where is it? Can we take a look at it?
I have designed a creature which I call a keng, Giom. And they are only made for space. So he can’t be here with us on Athos today. You can take a look at the video of him here.
Yes. Let’s take a look now ...
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying silent footage of the keng in its enclosure]
Whoa, Giom! That’s some creature.
Uh-huh. Dr. Erro. That is a unique-looking animal you’ve designed there. Was it supposed to look like that?
We prioritized many different factors, and looks were maybe on the list but not necessarily at the top of the list.
How would you describe ...? I’m struggling.
It looks like if wild, neurotic animal energy had a physical avatar, Giom. That’s how I would describe it.
You do have your way of seeing the world, Vaiyon. I mean it’s brown, it’s hairy, it’s about the size of a pineapple.
It’s about as handsome as a pineapple too, Giom.
You guys are too mean. I think he’s cute.
Not even that thing’s mother thinks he’s cute, doctor.
All right, Vaiyon. Let’s give the keng a chance. He might be a perfect pet for space flight.
Did you design him to have any kind of traits, doctor? You said looks weren’t a priority. What were your priorities, genetically speaking?
Excellent question, Dr. Hinchcookie. Please, Dr. Erro?
Well, when ships go to space, we know it’s not like a planet or a cylinder or a ring like here on Athos. So I didn’t want him to be reliant on light to keep a stable circadian rhythm. He doesn’t have a normal sleep cycle. Also he has good feet for space. I designed them to be able to hold on to any parts of the spacecraft. He has three long toes lined with skin like a gecko’s feet.
What does it eat?
Good question, Vaiyon.
He mostly eats legumes for proteins and some fruits.
Because I was thinking he looks like he would eat your face while you were sleeping.
Let’s hope nothing like that happened on the test flight. Do we have the montage for the keng’s flight cued up?
What a segue, Giom. Giom Chambie, ladies and gentlemen.
[Floatscreen flashes to spaceflight montage]
Okay. He looks like he’s doing all right.
Better than the space chicken. That’s for sure.
(Keng begins to chirp)
It certainly appears that way, Vaiyon. It looks like that demeanor you designed him for is suiting this keng in outer space, Dr. Erro. He’s perching on one of the handrails it looks like. He’s kind of got a little chirping sound there. I think you can hear that through the stream. That’s not a bad start.
It doesn’t really do anything but sit there and hoot, Giom, or whatever you call that noise. It’s getting a little louder.
(Keng sounds intensify)
Yes. And it appears, for the folks following at home, we have a time lapse, and the keng isn’t really moving.
Still barking, Giom.
Oh, is this what ... we’re on day three now?
He’s still cooking.
(Keng noises continue)
He’s still hanging onto that same rail, Dr. Erro. Does the keng move around?
He can move.
Day five now it says, Giom. It’s not shutting up.
It never sleeps!
Whoa! Who was that?
Was that the captain, Dr. Erro? It sounds like he might be growing tired of the friendly little cooing sounds of the—
It never shuts up! SHUT UP!
Whoa! Giom! Giom! Look at the captain!
I haven’t slept for four days. I want to kill this thing more than anything I’ve wanted anything in my life. If this cargo ship had a torpedo tube, I’d have shot that little bastard into the nearest sun two days ago.
Look at the bags around his eyes, Giom. I think he’s aged like six years in six days.
Is there a mercy rule on this space flight?
That’s a good question, Giom. There are inter-system agreements on torture. Although, I bet the Trasp would use that keng to drive prisoners crazy. You might have a market, doctor.
(Distant indistinct screaming sound can be heard in the background)
I think that’s the end of the ...
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
Oh, yes. It kind of came to an abrupt end there. I hope the captain made it back all right.
Me too, Giom. It’s easy enough to lose your sanity in space. And rumor has it that keng is still sitting there on that handrail squawking relentlessly.
He doesn’t do that usually.
No, Dr. Erro?
Not usually.
Just the entire flight, or until he drives the captain insane, Giom. Whichever comes first.
Okay, well it’s time to rate him now, panel. This time we’re going to start with Professor Hinchcookie.
Hinchkukie, yes, Giom. And I have to say, I rated this keng far higher than the chicken. The genetics were actually quite complicated, and Dr. Erro designed an interesting and unique creature that seemed suited to space, even if it has one glaring problem.
It’s more like a barking problem.
That’s true, Mr. Vaiyon.
And it’s ugly.
Yes. Also true. But I did score the keng at eighty-six points.
Eighty-six from Dr. Hinch-kukie. Apologies again on the name. Now what about you, Vaiyon? What’s your verdict on the Keng?
Well, Giom, you can be annoying if you’re pretty. That explains at least a tenth of our species, conservatively. But, boy you won’t last long if you’re ugly and annoying, which pretty much describes my childhood in a sentence, and probably the rest of my life too if I really think about it. Man, I’m starting to hate that keng even more.
Sounds like it’s tapping into a deep part of your soul there, Vaiyon.
Yeah. No. Giom, you shouldn’t be such a dick to someone who’s clearly as self-loathing as I am. That’s no good at all. And neither is this keng, Dr. Erro. I’m sorry. I hate it. I give it thirty points on the genetics, but nothing else. It’s ugly. It’s annoying. It drove the pilot insane in less than a week. I’d shoot it into the sun too.
Captain Vyper Rex, let’s hope you weren’t driven into a deep well of depression like Vaiyon from just watching the video of the keng. What did you think of it?
Fifty points.
Fifty points as well? The same as the chicken. Dare we ask why?
I would eat it.
You would eat that thing, Captain?
After a few days without food. Yes.
Man, Giom. This guy. I would never ... I wouldn’t even watch you eat it, Mr. Space Pirate.
That’s because a funny little man like you has never been starving to death in the cold depths of dark space. You’d eat it.
All right. Captain Vyper Rex with his verdict. Vaiyon looks a little ... well, let’s call it a bit perturbed, but I think we have a new leader at one hundred sixty-six points. Thank you, Professor Erro.
Okay. Our next entrant is from Iophos, Dr. Malima Kuhn. She’s a geneticist from The University of Abrams, who has re-engineered a type of Earth creature you wouldn’t necessarily think of as a pet. What do you have for us, Dr. Kuhn?
My project is ongoing, Giom, and there is still a lot of work to be done, but my team was calling our pet an overworm. It’s a bit of a misnomer, because it is a caterpillar and not a worm.
A caterpillar?
That’s right.
And what sort of genetic changes did you make to this caterpillar, an overworm, you called it?
Yes. Our overworm was something we made quite a few genetic changes to in order to make it a more appealing pet. Things like greater size and a different type of bristles that were softer and more numerous, so it appears like it has a full coat of fur, greater longevity, things of this nature.
Those were things designed to help it in space?
Partly to help it do well in that environment and partly to help it to appeal to people. Neoteny is usually what draws most people to pets, so—
Neoteny, professor?
Yes. That’s our academic word for cuteness, small size, symmetry, big eyes, non-threatening features. All the things that people appreciate about babies and small children they see in puppies or kittens as well.
I see.
Can we see the overworm, please?
And before we show the results, Giom, I think we should say this was our first test flight in space, and it didn’t go as planned. It’s still a work in progress.
As opposed to the other entries that have gone so amazingly well, professor?
Vaiyon. Vaiyon.
No. I mean, what exactly has she been watching for the last twenty minutes, Giom?
I think she’s just trying to keep expectations where they should be for an ongoing project. Is that right, Professor Kuhn?
Correct.
Okay. Let’s see it. The overworm, everyone.
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying spaceflight montage]
It looks dead, Giom.
At this point, it’s just waking up, Mr. Vaiyon. We had sedated it for travel and for the first burn out into space.
Ah, thanks, professor. So it’s groggy. It doesn’t look so bad, though. I thought a giant caterpillar would be ugly. I can see it sorta has that thing you were talking about before ...?
Neoteny.
Scheeerch!!!
Oh! There it goes. It’s not dead, folks. It’s waking up.
Scheeerch!!!
Whoa! What the — ? It doesn’t sound happy, Giom.
Scheeerch!!!
No it does not. It appears to be trying to contort itself ... It is not enjoying the ...
SCHEEERCH!!!!!!
… Oh, God.
Scheeerch!!!
I think it’s trying to teleport, Giom.
Scheeerch!!! Scheeerch!!! Scheeerch!!!
And now it appears to be seizing, Professor Kuhn?
No. It looks like its seizure is having a seizure. Giom, get it off the screen, man. It’s hurting my eyes.
Scheeerch!!!
I think maybe ... can we cut it, producer, please. Dear God, please.
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
Okay. Thank you. That didn’t go so well, Professor. And it didn’t settle down from there?
It died.
It had like a heart attack? Or ... do caterpillars even have hearts, Giom?
I am not the right—
Probably has like six hearts. They all had heart attacks, one right after the other.
That’s an interesting way of describing it, Vaiyon.
I’m going to hear that screeching in my nightmares for like a thousand years, Giom. Dear gawd.
Well, as you say, Professor, lots of work to be done still. Let’s see if our panel scores it accordingly. Professor Hinchkukie?
Congratulations, Mr. Chambie, I should add five points for your getting my name correct finally.
I’m learning as we go, Professor, like we all are I suppose. So the overworm. What did you learn?
The genetic profile is quite interesting, Mr. Chambie. For the record, caterpillars don’t have a heart in the way we think of it, Mr. Vaiyon, but Professor Kuhn’s team has done some incredible work in adapting the cardiovascular system, such as it is, in order to support this creature’s larger size. There are significant challenges, though. And the subject didn’t survive the first trial. I’d have to give it a ninety, mostly on the genetics and originality and innovation.
Ninety points from the professor. What about you, Vaiyon?
I’m going to need therapy, Giom. You know what would help with my trauma, though?
What’s that, Vaiyon?
A pet. An actual cute pet that doesn’t haunt your nightmares before dying, lay random eggs, scream incessantly to the point it drives its owners insane. A nice pet that keeps you company and makes you happier to be around it.
And the overworm?
That is not it, Giom. No, man. I give it thirty points on the weird genetics, Professor, but I want at least twenty-five of them back for having to watch that video, my God.
And what about you, Captain Vyper Rex?
No points.
No points? Zero?
That’s what no points means. Zero.
So you wouldn’t eat it? That’s what you’re saying?
No, I wouldn’t eat it, Vaiyon. I wouldn’t even eat the chicken’s eggs anymore if the chicken ate that thing.
What about the chicken?
If the chicken ate it, you mean? Maybe I would still eat the chicken. But still zero points.
All right, that’s a total of one hundred twenty points for the now sadly deceased overworm. What could possibly be next?
Something like a normal pet would be good, Giom. I thought that was the point, right?
That is the idea, Vaiyon, we’ll see if our next applicant was able to grasp the main point of the exercise. Who do we have now?
They’re telling me that next up is Mychal Burt, and he’s a geneticist from ... Oh, Mr. Burt is here all the way from Floriston. Welcome, Mychal. What do you have for us today?
Yeah, thanks, Giom. My pet might look familiar, like it swam right out of the oceans of Earth into space, but instead of altering a pre-existing aquatic genome, I had to design an entirely new genome from scratch.
So you made a space fish from scratch, Mychal?
It may look like a fish, yeah, but it’s not actually a fish. Ironically, it’s the cardiovascular system that’s the issue, much like that former-caterpillar we just saw.
Yours didn’t die already, though, did it?
Not yet, Vaiyon. No. It made it through the flight. But going back to the design, the genetic model for a fish is different, because they have gills and not lungs, and we needed to give our pet lungs and a ribcage to inflate them so that it could breathe the regular air we breathe in space.
So it just swims around in zero-G inside the ship?
Exactly, Vaiyon. I thought it would be interesting that instead of having a fish tank, you know, a spaceship is kinda like a fish bowl for us out in the stars. People have kept fish as pets for a long time, so I designed a different kind of fish to swim around our spaceships with us.
Does it have a name, Mychal?
The species is a cosmare, and this one’s name is Booker.
All right. Let’s see how it does.
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying spaceflight montage]
It does look like a fish, Giom. That’s weird, though, he’s floating there and you can see he’s breathing. And he what, just sorta flaps his tail to get around?
Just like in the water, yes. You got it, Vaiyon. You can see his fins are a little bigger than usual, but because it’s zero-G and he’s so light relatively, it gets around pretty good.
Go booker. Don’t tell me he barks incessantly and doesn’t sleep now.
Well, he doesn’t make any noise really, but he also doesn’t sleep either, at least not like most animals do. The cosmare sleeps the same way dolphins do, one half the brain sleeps and then the other when that half wakes up so that Booker never really goes to sleep fully.
And he seems to be following the pilot around in this montage. Everywhere he goes.
He looks like he’s glowing too, Giom.
That’s right, Vaiyon. It’s a little tougher to see when the lights are on during the daytime hours, but I designed the cosmare’s dermis to mimic the skin of cephalopods, and it also has phosphorescent properties.
What’s it look like in the dark, Mychal?
BRRAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!
AHHH!!! It glows, Giom! He’s still asleep, the pilot. Look, Giom.
That’s not your space fish making that sound, Mychal?
No. I don’t know what that is.
I think that’s the producers trying to add even more color to the situation. Thanks, fellas. But right now Booker is just floating there in the darkness staring at our pilot sleeping … I mean …
BRRAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!
What the ...? That is creepy as hell. I think it’s staring into his soul.
For those of you just listening, the cosmare—I guess you call it, Mychal—your cosmare is just hovering there over the pilot’s face while he’s sleeping.
What a sight to wake up to.
I think I’m with Vaiyon on that front, Mychal, but I have to say, it does beat a bleating keng howling at you all night. At least the pilot’s getting some sleep, Vaiyon.
I bet he’s dreaming about a giant glowing fish head.
At this point, Vaiyon, I’m just curious to see whether Captain Rex would eat him. Shall we score our glowing space fish, starting with you Professor Hinchkukie?
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
The genetics are fascinating, Mr. Chambie. Mychal Burt has done a remarkable job of constructing an entirely new genome that includes some attributes of various different species. It’s an incredible accomplishment, so in terms of the genetics alone, full points.
Fifty points, Professor?
For the genetics alone, and I would add another sixty points as I’ve categorized below for the attributes that make the cosmare a promising space pet. It has its flaws and could use a bit more personality, and it lacks in the neoteny department, as we discussed before, but this is by far the most promising of the entrants so far, in my opinion.
One hundred ten from Professor Hinchkukie. Great. What about you, Vaiyon? What’s your verdict.
That sounds about right, Giom. But I’m going to go with an even hundred. That glowing space fish might give me a stroke if I woke up to it staring at me like that. You need to fix that, Mychal.
I’ll do my best, Vaiyon. It’s a good critique.
Space fish.
BRRAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!
All right, a total of two hundred ten now, Captain Rex. What’s your verdict.
I wouldn’t eat it.
Not even if you were starving, Vyper?
It’s glowing. No. Would you eat it, Vaiyon the Bald?
I don’t know, man. I’m just trying to figure out where your line is. You would eat the keng, but not the glowing space fish?
That’s right.
So no points, Captain Rex?
No points, Giom Chambie.
All right, we have a new leader, and we have two final entrants. What do we have next? It looks like we have a local team from Shalinor, no?
Correct.
Great. That voice you just heard belongs to Conrad Hostet from right here in Shalinor-Zair on Athos. And you’ve taken a bit of a different approach, is that right, Mr. Hostet?
That’s right, Giom. Rather than simply relying on genetics to create the perfect space pet, I put a team together of geneticists and technologists to take an animal that people have a long history with to adapt that already beloved pet to thrive in space.
So there’s technology involved as well?
Oh, yes. And that makes sense if you stop to think about it. We’re animals that aren’t adapted to space and we have all sorts of tech to make our lives possible through space travel. Why wouldn’t it be the same for our pets?
So what type of pet is it already? Please tell me it’s not some kind of screaming, razor-clawed horned owl. Can we just have a—
He’s a cat, Vaiyon. Yes, and not a bizarre breed of panther or an ocelot or anything strange like that. Santos is an ordinary housecat—or actually, not exactly anymore. We’ve altered his genetics a bit to make him anything but ordinary, but all to the good, we think.
Would you like to explain some of these changes now, Mr. Hostet, or should we roll the clips and you can explain as we go along?
Oh, please roll the clips. Nobody wants to see me. Santos is the star of the show, Giom.
All right, producers. Let’s meet Santos.
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying spaceflight montage]
Yeaaassss!!! Thank you, Giom. It’s a cat. It looks like a cat. I could see that.
(Cat’s meowing can be heard in the background)
He’s got something on his head, though, Vaiyon. What is that, Mr. Hostet?
That’s his little helmet.
And he’s got something along his body there, too?
Well, okay. Let me explain the helmet first and that will explain his flex-belt, and both of these were designed with our partners at the MMTC—
That’s the Moses-Mesui …?
The Moses-Mesui Technical College, Giom, and they worked closely with the group I commissioned at Moses City University to alter Santos’s genetics.
And what’s the belt for ... what did you call it, a — ?
(Humming drone fans can be heard in the background)
Flex-belt, Giom. It’s how he gets around in zero-G. And the helmet is how he controls it. That’s part of what the helmet’s for. He just thinks where he wants to go and the fans in the flex belt fly him around the ship just as easy as anything.
(Humming drone fans and meowing can be heard in the background)
And there are other aspects to the helmet, Conrad? Seems to me you could do that with electrodes.
Part of the genetics work that we did with Santos was to help him with conscious awareness, intelligence, and language recognition so that he could understand his environment and to a large extent the people in it, and even the language.
He talks?
Not exactly, Vaiyon. He doesn’t have a great understanding of syntax, but he does have a rather impressive vocabulary of around five hundred words and phrases—place names, people’s names, things of that nature. And the helmet is able to pick up those signals from his cortex and convey those thoughts when he chooses to communicate.
So the helmet talks?
A little, yes. And it steers our little friend Santos around the ship. It also protects his head if the ship lurches suddenly.
(Humming drone fans can be heard in the background)
So he’s telepathic? All right. Next thing we’ll be seeing him mind control the pilot. Take me to the mouse planet.
He’s not that nefarious, Vaiyon. It’s no different than our brains telling our mouth to talk or making our feet take us where we want to go. Santos just does it with the electrodes in his head and the helmet.
Oh, man. Looks like he enjoys space a little bit, Giom.
He does seem to be enjoying himself, folks. Just so those of you listening have a picture of it, Santos is floating there in the midship on his back, and he’s got both paws up behind his head just ...
(Purring cat can be heard in the background)
He’s styling, Giom. It looks like he’s rubbing his belly there with his own tail. All he needs is a pair of sunglasses. Maybe a Mai-Tai.
He actually does have a visor attachment, Vaiyon, for when the ship approaches a star. We’re even working with the crew at the MMTC on a space suit so he can spacewalk with the ship’s crew. We’ll see how that goes.
And he’s sitting on the pilot’s lap there, Conrad. And we’re even getting a thumbs-up from the pilot ...
(Purring cat can be heard in the background)
Great day.
... What’s that? He’s ...?
That’s Santos talking, Giom. That’s the voice from the headset.
What did he say? Can we play that back, please?
Great day.
Great day. Oh. Santos is having a great day in space, everyone. You heard it from the cat’s helmet, I guess.
Exactly, Giom.
I think the only question left is whether Vyper Rex would eat him.
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
I don’t think so, Giom. Santos is too much fun to be around to ever want to eat him.
I could eat him up.
What’s that, Professor?
He’s precious, Giom. I could just eat him up.
So what’s your score then, Professor Hinchkukie?
All the points, Giom. The genetics are excellent. I love what your team at MCU did with the housecat blueprint—the uplifting, the dovetailing you’ve done with the tech, and he’s such a little superstar. One hundred fifty points, Giom. I’ll even put in a bid for Santos myself, Mr. Hostet.
Oh, I’d never sell Santos, Professor, respectfully.
Very good. Professor Hinchkukie gives Santos our space cat a perfect score. What about you, Vaiyon?
I like him, Giom, especially after the lineup we’ve had today. He’s handsome, has a little personality. I mean I came in from Hellenia, right? It would have been a much better trip with a companion like Santos in the cabin. I think, one hundred thirty points, and I would definitely not eat him. What do you think, Vyper?
Hey, Vaiyon, that’s my line. As much as it might not be the most glamorous gig I’ve ever done, I’m still the MC here. So, Captain Vyper, the question we all want answered: would you eat him?
One hundred points, Giom Chambie.
For ...? Wait? But would you eat him, Vyper? I thought that’s what we were asking.
I’d eat a lot of things if the need arose, but not Santos.
Great. That’s a total of three hundred eighty points, which means we have a new leader. Thank you to Conrad Hostet and Santos.
Now finally, we’ve come to our last entrant, coming from the novel species category, and he’s brought us an entirely new type of animal. Everyone meet Xavi Petrozian, who’s traveled here all the way from the Alphas with ...?
Hi, Giom. Shimi is our pet’s name.
Is that the species or its name, Xavi?
That’s our pets name, Giom.
You say our, Xavi? You didn’t come here alone with your Shimi. Who else came all the way from the Alphas with you?
My younger sister Dina. She’s been our biggest supporter from the start, me and Shimi.
And what kind of a pet is Shimi, Xavi?
Shimi is a good companion. There isn’t any other animal like her, so we don’t really have an answer for what species she is. Shimi is Shimi. My sister brought her with us.
Oh, yes. That’s Shimi right over there. Hi, Dina.
Hi.
It looks like a little furball, Giom. I’m betting Vyper would eat it. Is there some meat under that fur, Xavi?
I don’t think anyone should eat her, Mr. Vaiyon. She’s a much better companion than a meal. I’m certain of that.
She’s not really doing much.
Well, here in gravity it’s tough for her. I designed her to live in zero-G. She can survive just fine here on Athos, but she doesn’t move very well unless she can float.
Let’s take a look at that, Xavi. How did Shimi do on her flight?
[Floatscreen appears and engages, displaying spaceflight montage]
It really does look like a little furball, Giom. Does she even have a face?
Yes, of course. It’s just that she has a lot of hair around her eyes and mouth.
(Strange cooing sounds can be heard in the background)
She can see, Xavi? It looks like it might be tough for her to navigate.
Shimi has finely tuned hearing and is very attuned to the space around her. She’s extremely good at echolocation.
Oh, I can hear that. It’s almost like she’s purring ... or cooing ...?
It beats the keng, Giom. That’s for sure. But there’s not a lot of personality there.
It’s not quite as creepy as a glowing space fish either, Vaiyon, to be fair.
(High-pitched cooing sounds continue)
It hasn’t died of a stroke yet either. Seems like Shimi might be the best of the original animals.
Yes, Professor Hinchkukie, can you tell us anything about Shimi’s genetics, please?
They’re quite unique, Mr. Chambie. Very clever indeed. And Shimi’s body is very much like a mammalian form, but also, she doesn’t have any bones, so she also seems almost part jellyfish. But she’s warm, fairly intelligent it seems, and can recognize and respond to familiar people. I’m quite blown away by the design frankly.
How is she getting around? That thing is moving, right? Look, Giom. Giom. That little furball is moving.
Pfffffpt.
Did you hear that? What was that?
Shimi gets around by moving air.
Wait, what?
Under her fur, she has small structures very similar to gills. And she pushes the air out to negotiate around the ship.
Wait, wait, wait, Xavi? What? She pushes out the air? From what? Does it have a butt?
No, Vaiyon, that’s not exactly—
Listen. Listen.
Pfffffpt. Pfffffpt.
Giom! Giom! That furball is farting itself around the spaceship. Ha ha ha ha ha.
It’s not farting.
We have a farter here, Giom! Oh, my God. Who the hell is going to want a hairy space jellyfish farting its way around their spaceship all day?
But that’s not what—
They’re breathing it in! Ha ha ha ha …. Oh, hoh. Disgusting. A farting space amoeba ... ha ha ha ... It’s the best. It’s the best one. The best one so far.
Breathe, Vaiyon.
Giom. Giom ... I can’t! This guy made a farting space amoeba.
It’s not farting, Giom. It’s just like the fish, moving air.
I move a lot of air too, Giom! Wanna hear me move some air?
No, Vaiyon. Please. The air is just fine in here.
It’s farting. I wouldn’t eat it.
It’s not farting, Captain!
Listen, Giom. Shhh!
Pfffffpt. Pfffffpt. Pfffffpt. Pfffffpt.
It’s farting ... ha ha ha! It’s farting!
That’s not what it’s doing. That’s a total mischaracterization.
Okay, Xavi. I think Vaiyon is bound to disagree. Can you tell us, though, it looks like Shimi is just sorta floating around and ... pushing air, I guess—
Farting.
Thank you, Vaiyon. We know your position, but Xavi, does Shimi do anything else besides ...?
What do you mean? She’s a pet. She keeps you company. She can sit in your lap. You pet her.
And she farts on you.
But—
The farting space amoeba, Giom. We’re ready to score it and get the hell out of here. We all know who wins.
All right, Vaiyon. We are coming to that time. It looks from the montage that Shimi made it through alive, didn’t drive the pilot insane. He looks like he’s actually quite happy with Shimi; as you say, Xavi, she’s sitting on his lap, and he’s petting her.
Getting farted on.
She’s just moving air. It’s not right.
Okay, Xavi. Okay.
[Floatscreen disengages and disappears]
Now, Professor Hinchkukie, how did you rate Shimi?
Actually, highly, Giom. The genetic profile was quite clever. She has a lot of very nice attributes of a pet, soft, extremely agreeable. For a design from scratch, she’s incredibly well adapted to zero-G and long space flights. I scored her at one hundred thirty.
One hundred thirty from the professor. Vaiyon, we already have your commentary on Shimi. What’s your score going to be?
Honestly, Giom, I should be fair. I’m going to try. And this one is not so bad. It’s not howling for a week straight. It’s not seizing or randomly laying eggs in engine parts. It’s not glaring into anybody’s soul. I’m sorry. I can’t help but find the humor in things, and this one? Farting for locomotion? I don’t have to try so hard. Xavi, I’ve given you a hard time but I think one hundred twenty is fair for Shimi.
Zero.
Zero, Captain? You still wouldn’t eat it?
No. I wouldn’t even have it on my ship, farting like that.
It’s not farting!
Okay, Mr. Petrozian. We have to respect the panel’s decision. That puts you and Shimi at a very respectable two hundred fifty, which makes you the first runner up to our winner, Conrad Hostet and his remarkable space cat Santos. We’re going to bring back Ms. Devonaiya from Intervetia and we’ll be awarding the prize to Mr. Hostet momentarily.
All he did was stick a few neural electrodes in a cat’s dermis and attach a few drone fans to a belt pack. We built an entirely new species from scratch!
Okay, Xavi, we—
And then you get comedians and space pirates to award a developmental grant? We came all the way from the Letters for this? This is such bullshit!
All right, folks, we’re going to cut away from the stream for a minute to allow things to settle down here. Stick with us for a moment and we’ll hear from Mr. Hostet and bring in our winning pet.
[Stream Outro Music Plays]
Well, Mama, it took longer than a minute before they were able to calm Xavi down. It got ugly at the end. They had to re-do the ceremony, because Xavi wouldn’t go along with it and smile.
Plus, Santos did not like Shimi at all. I think it was the smell. But Santos kept hissing at Xavi and Shimi. That cat didn’t seem so smart then. That was Xavi’s entire point. They saw a fuzzy little cat and thought how amazing it was. Xavi kept saying he could’ve made those genetic changes in a weekend. Mr. Hostet isn’t even a geneticist. He’s just a businessman who paid someone to patent Santos’s genomic changes. Then all they could say was, well, Xavi, why didn’t you do it then? But the whole reason he decided to make Shimi from scratch was to win that original species division. And then he got so furious nobody would listen to him. Intervetia wouldn’t even pay for our tickets back to the Letters.
Anyway, everyone else was able to figure it out except Xavi. He thought it was serious, and maybe the contest started that way, but some people can’t figure out when they’re the clown and that it’s all a circus. So Xavi got too hot and ended up in the cooldown tank, and I need some money and some help to get him out again.
The good news is that Shimi and I are getting along great, and somehow, I’m not sure how, I think she’s having babies. So maybe we can sell some of them to help us get home to the Alphas.
See you soon, Mama.
Dina.