Chapter 9: A Trip to Town

By the fourth week, Neris’s English had become good enough to be dangerous.

She understood most literal speech. She could follow ordinary conversation when people spoke clearly. Idioms remained a minefield, humour depended on assumptions her language support could not supply, and contractions occasionally collapsed into sounds that seemed deliberately unhelpful. She wanted to go into town anyway.

“Observation from the truck is no longer sufficient,” she told Daniel.

They stood in the farmhouse mudroom assembling a disguise meant only to prevent close inspection, not make Neris look human. Daniel’s oversized coat, hoodie, scarf, glasses and gloves repeated what had worked during the market trip. The new problem was her tail: she compressed it beneath the coat with two broad supports and an improvised waist sling. The result was uncomfortable and gave her silhouette the appearance of someone carrying a bedroll beneath her clothing.

“You look like you’re smuggling a sleeping bag,” Daniel said.

“I am smuggling part of my body.”

“Fair point.”

ER spoke through the communicator, its encrypted link relaying his voice from Takuhai.

“The concealment strategy has a projected success probability of sixty-three percent during brief encounters and nine percent during medical examination.”

“We are not planning a medical examination,” Neris said.

“This improves the projected outcome.”

Daniel adjusted the hood without touching her ears. “Rule one: we leave if you feel exposed. Rule two: you don’t owe anyone conversation. Rule three: if something goes wrong, follow me and let ER complain later.”

“I object to the structure of rule three,” ER said.

“That’s why it works.”

The hardware-and-feed cooperative sat at the edge of the nearest service town, large enough for anonymity but small enough that Daniel knew the owner and half the customers knew his truck. It sold fencing supplies, mineral supplements, hydraulic hose, winter clothing, chainsaw parts, and enough household goods to spare northern residents a longer drive south. Neris entered beside Daniel with her head lowered against the cold. Her tail remained tightly constrained, an absence she felt with every step.

The automatic doors opened, and she stopped. Warm air moved across her face carrying rubber, cut timber, fertilizer, paint, metal, dust, and dozens of humans. Carts rattled. A child cried somewhere near the garden section. Music played through ceiling speakers. Fluorescent lights flickered at frequencies most humans did not perceive. Daniel waited without turning the pause into attention.