Page 25 of Jorhee

I straightened my back and set my shoulders, striding over to the innocuous looking little food dispenser in the wall. I rolled my neck while pretending to think as I stared at it, daring it to squirt me like it was some kind of weird water gun.

“Two glasses of sweet tea, cold, with ice, please.”

“North America’s standard orange pekoe or would you prefer black or green tea?” Bob asked.

“Just regular old Southern sweet tea.”

Two mason jar styled glasses with handles appeared. I took one, sipping cautiously and nodded. Everything was as it should be, and it was neither too sweet nor too bitter.

“Thanks, Bob,” I said, taking the other one. “This is just right.”

“Sure thing, Jesse! Hey, what’s black and white and read all over?”

I paused mid turnaround and blinked. “A newspaper?”

“Aww, you knew that one. I’ll have to try harder.”

I looked wide-eyed at Johree.

“What just happened?”

He shrugged. “It appears he has discovered humor and developed a taste for bad jokes. It is a harmless pastime.”

I nodded, handing him his tea before placing my own on the table and pulling out my chair to sit down. “Hopefully, he learns some better jokes.”

The two guards nodded in agreement along with Johree as I dug into my stew by dipping the bread in it, using it to scoop some of it out.

“Oh! This is good.”

“Kilt-ha are raised here for their meat,” Johree informed me.

“Are they easy to raise?” I asked, interested. He launched into an explanation which I listened to as we ate. It reminded me of dinners at home, from before it all went wrong, listening to Grandpa and Dad talk about a new breed of cattle they wanted to buy. It was both familiar and alien, but as we spoke, I realized something.

I can do this. So I have a few fancy pants events to deal with every now and then. And I’ll get asked to help Johree with community planning stuff - that’s not much different than when we had to vote on some things back home, to change zoning or whatever. This right here, though, is in my blood. The animals might be different species, but then, horses and cows aren’t thesame either. And he’s promised to stay by my side to help me along.

A warm feeling of contentment filled me unexpectedly at the thought. I wasn’t alone nor friendless anymore.

17

JOHREE

“Why do the buildings all look like they came out of a western now?”

It was a very good question. Not all of the buildings had been changed, of course. The spaceport still looked the same as did the farm buildings I could spy off in the distance. The one street that made up the tiny hamlet of New Haven itself? It had been transformed since the last time we’d laid eyes on it, a mere five days ago.

“I’m glad you asked that!” Bob’s voice sang out from a small, old fashioned looking speaker that hung from under the eaves of the sheriff’s office. “Research shows that humans do best in familiar surroundings, so we spent the last few days working around the clock to give Jesse and the other humans who will be arriving that.”

“So you picked a movie set from a Western?” Jesse asked, sounding incredulous.

“Of course not!” Bob sounded offended. “I merely looked up historical land claims and people who established farms, ranches and towns in what used to be prairie, like we have here.”

“Oh Lord,” he groaned. “Don’t tell me -”

“If you mean the westward expansion in the USA and the wonderful historical narrative written by Laura Ingalls Wilder, which was made into a most heartwarming vid series, I certainly do!” Bob crowed, sounding triumphant. “An iconic series, from what I’ve read, and one which nearly every human will recognize. It will be a recognition that will evoke a feeling of nostalgia and happiness, so that even the blue green of the prairie grasses and the sky won’t deter them from feeling that they’ve arrived at the home their souls have yearned for.”

Jesse opened his mouth, then shut it, shaking his head.

“Is this true?” I asked him, tapping my claws gently against the siding of the saloon. It appeared to be wood, but wasn’t.