“C’mon boys. Zeke dropped in. Dick move.” An older Human, a full adult or nearly so. There were a few others straggling behind him, chorusing a vague series of agreements, but Drake’s attention pulled back to dick-move-Zeke, still grinning next to his board.
“Wouldn’ta dropped in if you didn’t hog em, pup. Like Crew said, you gotta learn to share.”
“You get the wave, or you wait your turn.” Drake’s voice muddied with a snarl.
“Wait my turn? It’s my planet, doggo. Maybe you should try your own?” Zeke stepped away from his board as his two friends crowded closer, braver with his pack.
“Maybe you should learn to swim. Less talking, more speed.”
“You goofy-stance motherfucker, you want some speed?” The biggest of them launched himself forward, and Drake let go, shoving off the sand to meet him.
Drake got in the first blow, all the air coming out of the large Human in a whoosh, and Drake hooked his leg behind the man’s to shove him the rest of the way down. The other two were on him by then, a blur of kicks and punches and attempted grapples in uncertain footing. Drake’s balance—and training—were better than theirs, but even he couldn’t make shifting sand steady.
The big one got his breath back and returned to the fray and, frustrated, Drake snapped, sinking his teeth into the salt and skin and blood of whatever arm was closest.
One of the Humans yelped, one got in a solid kick that numbed half his leg, and he punched the last of them hard enough in the face that the Human froze for a full second before toppling over.
Panting, Drake straightened, putting his weight on his good leg, and returned to guard, glaring.
“He bit me!”
“It was three on one, Zeke. You dropped in his wave. Call it a day.” The other Humans had waited throughout, bearing witness to the fracas, and the older one seemed satisfied by the outcome.
“Lucky it was three on one, dude’s a beast.”
Drake ignored it, like he’d ignored the videos Humans always tried to show him of Earth dogs surfing, like he tried to ignore all of these idiot bareskins with their fragility and their comments and their endless need to talk.
“We done here?” He asked, his hands still up, his narrow eyes on Zeke.
The Human spat to the side, holding his arm close. There was enough blood to keep him out of the water for the rest of the evening, but not enough for anyone to panic. Belatedly, Drake realized that was a call home he didn’t need. After a long moment, Zeke nodded, and Drake snapped his head to the side, keeping his ears angled back.
“Anyone else?”
“We’re done.” The older one again. He smelled more like the ocean than a Human, which maybe was why Drake didn’t immediately hate him. “You going back out?” When Drake shook his head, he added, “Rather see you out there than these kids with their shit manners. Maybe next time.”
The Human didn’t wait for an answer, which made Drake almost like him, and the group dispersed.
Salt and blood mixed heavy in his nose, but he grabbed his board and hiked back to his ATV without wiping at it, powering through the ache of his leg and side. Let them think they couldn’t do damage to him, idiot Humans. Maybe it would make them more cautious next time.
Except there would be different idiots next time. The planet was too full of them.
* * *
“Why do you always try to sneak by me?” Dana asked, holding his face still with one hand as she dabbed antiseptic on his lip with the other.
“How do you always smell me out?” he replied as he usually did. His ears relaxed, even as the medicine stung its way through the vestiges of sand and salt they’d missed.
“I guess I picked some things up from my kids.” She sat back and studied his face, losing the brisk professionalism of logistics officer for both the gentler and sharper visage of mother. “You going to talk about it?” With a hint of a smile, she continued and matched his words perfectly, “Do I ever?”
His mouth dropped in a bit of a smile, and he shook his head slightly.
“There’s food done.” She smoothed a hand over his furred cheek briefly, and he pressed his head slightly against it. “I have to go back to the office and finish up—we had a lot of traffic today.”
“Thanks, Captain Porter.”
“Don’t ‘Captain Porter’ me at home. I’ll put you right back to work.” Dana stood, smiled at him, then leaned back in to touch her forehead to his. “And stop beating up the local boys. We’re going to need recruits eventually.”
“These ones aren’t worth it,” Drake said automatically, thought of the one seemingly decent one, then shrugged the thought away.
“Noted.” She straightened, smiled at him, and gestured toward the kitchen. “Go eat so you don’t pick a fight with your siblings when they get home. I’ll make you scrub all the floors if you get any more blood on it.”
“Noted, Mother.” He saluted, and her laugh followed him out of the room.
* * *
“You keep beating up the shark biscuits, one will pull a gun on you,” Ripley said. She’d been lounging on the couch in their apartments, brushing out her tail, when Drake came in smelling of blood and anger.
“Rack off, sis,” Drake said and went by to the dunny. She smiled after him and went back to her slate. There was a sizeable pile of her blonde hairs on the couch she’d have to vacuum up later. Dana was liable to chuck a wobbly if the cleaning robot crapped out again because it was chock full of Zuul hair.
The slate
