THUMP
I stood next to the wall, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the increasingly urgent churning growls coming from my gut. There were no chairs in this waiting room, none my butt could sit in, anyway. I took my phone out of my pocket to check the time. The clock was the only thing that worked, no cell towers 25 light years from Earth. I had been standing in this waiting room for nearly an hour with nothing to occupy my mind. For the sixth time I read the large poster written in English hanging on the opposite wall:
“Welcome, human visitors! Remember, our hands are also our feet. Please help keep this clinic clean by removing your footwear before entering: St. Starlight’s House of Healing.
”
THUMP
Focus hung low on the horizon, its golden rays pouring into the room through the large windows lining the entrance wall. In the hour I had been standing here the shadows cast by the doorframe hadn’t moved an inch, and they never would. On Hearthside, the time of day changed with the latitude. Golden Hour city sat comfortably on the terminator dividing day and night.
THUMP
Perched behind a counter on the opposite side of the room was a fawn-coated receptionist, her HUD specs sitting halfway down her muzzle flashing reflected sunlight back in my face.
THUMP
Despite the poster’s exhortation to cleanliness, the musty smell of a kennel hung in the air. That’s not to say the place wasn’t clean, well, as clean as a species with constantly shedding fur can make such a high traffic public area. I didn’t mind the smell, really. It reminded me of the animal shelter where I picked out my first dog when I was little. It smelled like a friend.
THUMP
It had taken a considerable amount of effort to tune out that incessant thumping. I was sharing the waiting room with a handful of other monkey foxes, a family by the looks of it. Three adults—two sires and a dam, travelling with three of their pups, all girls, one of whom was the source of the noise. They had already been waiting for a bit when I came in. All three girls started yipping excitedly upon seeing this hairless ape duck through the doorway, all twelve paws scrabbled on the slick tile to be the first to interact with me.
The three pups managed to approach.
«Wow, wow,» said one, ducking behind me to stare at my backside. «Lookie, they really have no tail.»
«See,» said the second, her nose pointed at my stockings. «No thumbs on their rear paws. Is it true you stand up like that all the time, mister?»
«Just that patch of fur on top of your head?» queried the third. «Is that why you wear those covers like a healer?»
«No, look, sis» barked the first, gesturing with her muzzle up at the meager hair covering my arm, «they do have fur, just not a lot of it.»
«now, now, my delights, don’t bother the gentleman,» chided one of their sires. They scampered back to their parents, and I heaved a sigh of relief. It took every ounce of my willpower not to scoop them up in my arms and give them all ear scritches and snoot boops. Now robbed of their strange playmate, one of the girls began thumping the wall with her tail, and through the endurance that only youth can provide, had managed to keep it up for the past hour. I wasn’t the only one annoyed by the noise. With each thump, the right ear of the receptionist flicked.
Another plaintive gurgle issued from my abdomen. I couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to do what no one else could do for me. I glanced around the room, looking for any signs of where a restroom might be. I was on the verge of walking up to ask the woman behind the counter when one of the sires, the same one who had scolded the girls earlier, hopped down from his perch, his claws clacking on the hard tile floor, then trotted up to the counter ahead of me.
«Excuse me, ma’am,» he began, «Our appointment time was half an hour ago.»
The woman slid her HUD specs further down her muzzle. «And I told you folks when you came in that we were having network problems. My paws are tied until it gets fixed. She whipped her head to one side and barked «Calmwind, is the network back up yet?!»
Through a curtain dividing an adjoining room a dusty gray snout poked out, twitched a few times, then its owner waddled forward. The white noise of server cooling fans escaped the room as he pushed the curtain aside. He was definitely a fair ways up the chonk chart. I think this was my first time seeing a fat monkey fox. He panted a few times as though the effort of walking ten feet from his little techie cave was too much.
«And I told YOU,» said Calmwind as though he had been part of the conversation from the beginning, «It’s not a network issue. The payment processor is down.»
«I don’t think—» she said, but Calmwind snapped back as though venting years of pent-up frustration.
«Look, It’s not the network, okay? I swear it’s always the network with you people. Noisy heat pump fan? Network must be down. Light flickering in the bathroom? Better call Calmwind, it’s the network again. What does he get paid for anyway?» he mocked.
I made my way up to the front of the room, ducking my head to avoid various ceiling fixtures. This building wasn’t built for someone who stood over 30 inches at the shoulder. The sire gave me an unreadable look which I chose to mean “Is this seriously happening right now?” Then he shot a glance back at the other two members of his childermoot. The remaining sire and dam hopped down from their perches and herded their pups out the front door, doubtless to spare them this public display of office politics.
Meanwhile, Calmwind had plucked the HUD specs from the receptionist’s muzzle. «See, I told you, you’ve been browsing the internetwork this whole time. It’s not a problem on our end. You need to send a message to the payment processor.»
«I’m a receptionist, not an office manager, I get one paycheck but everyone expects me to do the work of two people!» she hissed.
“What can you do.” I said in English, shrugging at the sire standing next to me. He flicked his ears back, returning my shrug with his species’ own gesture of resignation.
A loud grumble issued from my gut, catching the attention of all three yinrih.
«Are you feeling well, human?» asked Calmwind, out of breath from arguing.
“Are YOU feeling well, big chungus?” I said under my breath in English, then pulled out my synth and continued in Commonthroat. «Pardon me, but do you know where the restroom is?»
«It’s a bit down the hall, and to the right,» he said, tossing his muzzle to one side indicating the hallway nearby.
I ducked into the hallway and started jogging, I heard one last snatch of conversation from the waiting room before turning the corner. The sire, in an attempt to de-escalate, changed the subject. «Amazing how fast they can run on just those two long hind legs of theirs.»
«I know, right?» answered Calmwind, «and with no tail for balance and as tall as they are, you’d think they’d be falling over all the time.»
I rounded the corner and was met with another long hallway. My gut rumbled in protest again, my jog having made my situation even more dire. I continued at a brisk walk, accumulating a few bruises from the fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Finally, I came to another doorway. I could hear running water from behind the thick curtain. I could wait no longer. I pushed the curtain aside and barged into the room.
”
