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I flinch. Now? Why? Then I’ll be sitting in here for heaven knows how long with a wet diaper.

Daddy pinches my nipple, holding it hostage. “Obey Daddy, Little pet.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I obediently wet myself. I’m not happy about it, nor do I understand his reasoning.

“That’s a good girl.” He reaches in with both hands, unfastens the two sides of my diaper, and says, “Lift your bottom for me.”

When I do, he swipes the diaper away from the straps of my harness.

Finally, he adds, “I noticed you had a hard time getting comfortable in such a cramped space with the bulky material between your legs. Do you think you can curl up on your side and take a nice nap without your diaper?”

My heart lurches. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Lie down, Little pet. Let’s get all these animals situated, and then I’ll cover you.”

There’s even a small pillow for my head, and I manage to curl into a ball with the tiny marn in the crook of my arms. Daddy puts Juju beside me. And Chinz spins around until he’s comfortable behind my knees.

Daddy tucks a cover all around me, making sure not to bury the animals. When he’s done, he shuts my cage door and locks it. “Nap, Little pet,” he orders. And then he rises and walks away.

I’m confused by everything. It’s incongruous for him to be so kind about making sure I’m comfortable, while at the same time restraining me as though I’m a wild animal.

I burrow deep under the blanket when I hear voices entering the shelter.

Trobu is plastered to the side of my kennel, staring at me intently, but when the men enter, his ears perk up, and he growls. It’s not loud. I’m the only one who can hear him, but it’s clear he’s letting me know he doesn’t like the visitors. He even rises to his haunches and sits, facing away from me, blocking the view of my cage.

Chinz whimpers, too. He rises, spins around a few times, and returns to his spot. I can feel waves of mistrust coming off them. How is it possible that I can sense such a thing? I can’t explain it, but it’s definitely there.

These two shorgs have declared themselves my protectors, and they’re not pleased with the newcomers.

Daddy must have had an idea he wouldn’t like them, either. That’s why he wanted me totally out of sight.

I don’t dare lift my head, so all I can see is several pairs of legs in suit pants as they enter the shelter at the other end of the room. They’re immediately ushered into another room, and then the door shuts.

SIXTEEN

I’m relieved. I don’t mind the sounds of all the shorgs. I’ve grown accustomed to the symphony of their combined barks and whimpers throughout the day. It’s comforting in some strange way.

Venkorians make me leery, and for good reason. After all, I know I need to be mistrustful. Daddy has warned me time and again that people might try to kidnap me.

My hair is a wild mess all around me, and I pull the blanket over my head, creating a tiny fort for me and my two marns. The stuffed one looks at me with a smile. The living one peers up with wide blue eyes before snuggling in the crook of my arm again.

She’s so precious. I wish I could keep her, but I won’t dare ask. If this is my new home, I will meet thousands of pets over the course of my life, and obviously, I can’t keep them. They must be nursed to good health, trained, and put up for adoption.

But this marn…

She’s comforting me just by existing. I stroke her soft fur over and over. It helps keep my blood pressure from skyrocketing. Her little purrs are adorable.

Trobu sits at attention next to my kennel the entire time Daddy and the men are in the room. His ears stand up as though he’s listening for danger, protecting me. Maybe I’m making that up, but I like to think Trobu and Chinz see me as a new family member, someone they respect. They won’t let anything happen to me if they can help it.

I assume the room at the other end of the shelter is a conference room. I’m picturing the sort of meeting spaces we had on the space station. As soon as the door opens, Trobu growls low and deep again. Chinz jumps up from behind my knees and sits on top of my hip. He’s small and mighty. I don’t think I’d mess with him.

The marn is oblivious, snoozing away.

I keep the blanket over my head. I worry that my hair is going to attract attention. I know it’s different. It was an odd color even on the space station. I know from reading books that not many humans had hair this shade of red. If it’s even more rare on Venkoria, people will stare at me.

“I heard you got a human pet,” one of the men comments.

Daddy’s voice is tense as he responds, “Yes.”