Chapter 14: Cooperation

Jamie and Liz stepped into the lobby of the building, the kittens safely nestled in their carriers. They had taken a taxi down to one of the local community centers, civic buildings where people could attend events or classes. The woman who was manning the front desk looked up from her holographic display, then did a double-take when she saw an eight-foot Borealan laden with kittens standing over her.

“We’re here for the playgroup,” Jamie explained, the woman tearing her eyes away from the towering alien.

“Oh,” she replied, trying to compose herself. “Go down that corridor,” she said as she leaned out of her booth to point down the hall. “Second door on your right.”

“Thanks,” Jamie said, Liz trailing behind him as he set off.

“I hope I don’t scare the kids,” Liz muttered.

“They won’t be scared of you,” he replied, trying to reassure her. “They’ll probably think you’re a giant stuffed animal or something.”

“What about the other parents?” she continued, her ears lying flat against her blonde hair. “I feel like I’m intruding, like I shouldn’t be here. Maybe you should have come down on your own. What if they don’t want me around their kids?”

It had been a while since Jamie had seen Liz fret like this. After her return from Borealis, her confidence had seemed unshakable, and she never paid any mind to what strangers thought of her. But now, she seemed mortified by the idea that the other parents would disapprove of her, that their children would be frightened. As a mother, perhaps she understood their perspective all too well.

“They’re going to stare at you, because everyone does,” Jamie began. “But, once they settle down, you just have to show them that you’re good with the kids. You’re a great mom, so do mom things, and the other parents will get the picture.”

“I have knives for fingers, Jamie,” Liz grumbled as she flexed her claws. “I’m also heavy enough to turn a toddler into a meat pancake if I take a wrong step.”

“You got this,” he added, giving her a pat on the thigh.

They arrived at the door, Jamie stepping through into a large room. It was the same kind of space one might hire out for a wedding or a conference, lit by fluorescent strips on the ceiling. The floor was covered over with soft carpeting, and the walls had been painted with colorful letters and numbers, giving it the look of a classroom. The carpet was strewn with all kinds of large foam shapes that ranged from simple squares and triangles to crude animals. There was a ball pit, a jungle gym, and little playhouses. Some of the walls were stacked with shelves full of picture books, and there were hampers full of toys and games. In the center of the ceiling was a holographic projector, which created a giant, shimmering mobile of colorful stars and planets that rotated in the air.

The space was already full of squealing children. They ran back and forth as they chased each other, climbing on the foam furniture, wading around in the ball pit. Their ages ranged from maybe one-year-old to three or four. Any older, and they would be able to attend preschool, and thus would have no need for playdates.

Off in one corner of the room was a collection of tables and chairs where the adults could sit, along with a couple of vending machines for snacks and coffee.

There were half a dozen other parents in attendance, all of them stopping their conversations dead as Liz ducked through the door. Most of the children stopped their play, glancing up at the strange sight, some looking to their parents for reassurance. One of the toddlers closer to the tables waddled over to his mother, climbing into her arms, glancing back warily at the newcomers.

It wasn’t the best start for Liz, but there was still time to make a good first impression. One of the women rose to greet them as they approached, Jamie recognizing her voice. This was the organizer who he had spoken to over the phone.

“Welcome,” she said. “So glad you could make it.”

As Liz neared the tables, the attitude of the other parents abruptly changed. They went from suspicious to curious the moment they saw the kittens, their expressions softening almost in unison.

“Guys, this is Liz and Jamie,” the organizer began as she introduced the pair. “They’ll be joining us for playgroup today. Liz is a Borealan,” she announced, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already.

“Hi,” Jamie said, Liz giving them a nervous wave. “These are our kids. This is Hazel, Toza, Daz, Ken, and Bren,” he said as he pointed to each kitten in turn. He was glad to see that weaponizing their cuteness had worked once again. The women especially were melting at the sight of them as they struggled in their harnesses.

“Mama, down!” Daz insisted, a chorus of enamored coos coming from the tables.

“They look just like little cats!” one of the mothers said.

“Is it ... safe for them to play with the other children?” another of the parents wondered, Jamie eyeing Liz as her tail drooped.

“They’re very well-behaved,” Jamie assured them. To demonstrate, he lifted Hazel out of her pouch, setting her down on the carpet. She glanced up at the strangers, unsure of herself, turning to take refuge behind Jamie’s leg. “Go on,” he added, giving her an encouraging nudge.

“Hi there!” one of the parents said, the woman sliding out of her chair and crouching down nearby. She extended her hands in invitation, but the kitten wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, try this,” Jamie said as he fished in his pocket. The kittens all turned their heads in his direction as they heard the distinct crinkling sound of a cream cheese wrapper. He stepped closer to hand it to the woman, who looked at it in confusion. Hazel wanted cheese more than she was afraid of the stranger, waddling over to her, her furry little hand outstretched expectantly.

“What do we say, Hazel?” Jamie asked. She glanced back at Jamie, thinking for a moment.

“Eees,” she stated.

“I don’t know if that was supposed to be please or cheese,” Jamie mused. “Close enough.”

The woman unwrapped the treat, handing it to Hazel, who immediately ate it.

“See? Perfectly civilized,” Jamie said as the kitten made her way back to him.

The prospect of having afternoon tea with an alien soon outgrew the apprehension of the other parents, Liz beginning to relax more as they peppered her with questions about her species and her travels across the Galaxy. Like Jamie prior to his trip to Jarilo, most of them had never even left the city, never mind traveled to another planet. As she regaled them with tales of her visit to Borealis, the kittens slowly drew closer to the other kids.

So far, they had remained near their parents, unsure of this new environment. The human children were equally unsure of the newcomers, many of them forming a rough crescent nearby, keeping their distance as they stared. Jamie thought it unlikely that they were afraid. The kittens looked like teddy bears for all intents and purposes, any child should find them appealing. It was more about curiosity, a natural wariness of the unknown.

Toza was the first to make his move. He noticed that one of the strange, furless creatures was playing with a toy truck, and if there was one thing that Toza enjoyed, it was trucks. The kitten waddled out from under the table, leaving his brothers and sisters behind. As he neared, the little boy looked up, Toza coming to a stop nearby. He was a little blonde kid, maybe three years old, wearing a pair of denim suspenders. The two stared at each other for a moment, then Toza lowered himself to the carpet clumsily, reaching slowly for one of the toys. Jamie watched with bated breath, hoping that the kitten wouldn’t be discouraged if his playmate decided not to share, but the little boy made no move to stop him.

Toza lifted one of the trucks, glancing between it and the boy, observing how he played. The kittens were very social creatures, they always seemed attuned to what those around them were doing, and they had learned to share rather quickly. Jamie wasn’t sure if it was their collectivist instincts, or if he and Liz had merely raised them well, but it gave him confidence that they could play well with the other kids.

“You can have this truck,” the boy said, rolling another of the toys in Toza’s direction. “This one is mine, but you can have this one. It’s red,” he added. “Red like a firetruck.”

Toza couldn’t yet communicate as well as the older boy, but he understood the gesture, reaching out to pick up the toy. Jamie gave Liz a nudge, nodding in their direction.

“Look,” he whispered. “Toza is making a new friend.”

Perhaps encouraged by their brother, the other kittens gradually emerged from beneath the table, making their own tentative attempts to interact with the other children. Before long, their apprehension had given way to curiosity, eventually resulting in play. Bren was burning off his surplus of energy by scaling the jungle gym with remarkable finesse, much to the acclaim of the children who were watching him. Daz had located the art table and was busy scribbling with a couple of other kids, telling them a meandering story as she sifted through the pile of crayons. Ken seemed a little unsure of himself, but was soon attracted to the ball pit. He poised at its edge, watching the other children wade through the colorful, plastic spheres, his half-chewed spoon handle in hand. Upon mustering the courage, he slid in, his hesitation quickly forgotten as he joined the fun.

Only Hazel was the holdout. She had always been shy, and the prospect of being separated from her parents with so many strangers around had her staying close to Jamie’s chair. She was going to need some encouragement, and he wasn’t sure that a cheese wedge would be enough to convince her this time.

He lifted her off the carpet, the kitten leaning against his chest, eliciting another round of coos from the other parents.

“Hazel is shy,” he explained. “She’s a little scared of the other kids. Do any of you have any quiet or shy children you think might want to play with her?”

“Our son, Sammy, is usually quite reserved,” one of the mothers replied. “That’s him over there,” she added, pointing across the room. Jamie turned in his chair, seeing a little boy with dark hair sitting on his own beside one of the bookshelves, his legs crossed. He looked to be about four years old. As he watched, the boy pulled out another picture book, setting it down in his lap as he began to leaf through it.

Perfect.

“Let’s introduce them,” Jamie suggested, the woman nodding her head as she rose from her chair to follow him. Hazel clung to him possessively, Liz giving him an appreciative smile from her place at the table beside him.

“Sammy,” the woman said, crouching beside the boy. He glanced up from his book, his eyes soon turning to Hazel, who peered back at him curiously from the safety of Jamie’s arms. “This is Hazel. It’s her first time coming to playgroup, and she’s a little nervous. Do you think you could look after her for us?”

The little boy nodded quietly, watching as Jamie pried the kitten off his jacket, setting her down on the floor. She immediately retreated to the safety of his leg, chewing on one of her claws nervously as she eyed her newly-assigned playmate with her usual measure of suspicion.

“It’s okay, Hazel,” Jamie said in the most reassuring tone possible. “Look, Sammy has a book. You like your books, don’t you?”

She nodded, keeping a tight hold on his pants.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” the woman chimed.

Sammy was remarkably perceptive for his age, soon picking up on Hazel’s insecurity. He turned his book to show her the pictures on the thick, child-friendly pages, images of cartoon dinosaurs rampaging across a pastel backdrop.

“This one is called, um ... a triceratops,” Sammy said as he pointed to one of the pictures. “I know all of the dinosaurs, pretty much. You want to see?”

Hazel glanced up at Jamie for reassurance, then let go of his leg, taking a few tentative steps closer. She hovered around the boy for a moment, peering over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages of his book, then settled in beside him. Jamie considered asking Sammy to read to her, but he was likely too young to do much more than look at the illustrations.

“Progress,” Jamie whispered, Sammy’s mother giving him a smile.

While the kids played, the parents chatted. Jamie was starting to realize that as much as the playgroup was benefiting the children socially, it was doing the same for him and Liz. Ever since they were children, their circle of friends had been small. Growing up, it had very much been Jamie and Liz against the world, the two of them preferring one another’s company. The bullying had been much less pronounced in high school and college, but neither of them had ever forged any strong friendships, only making the acquaintance of their classmates out of convenience. Jamie still remembered the disastrous house party he had attended shortly after Liz’s departure, and how it had taught him the fickle nature of such relationships. He hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from his school days, and the only people he continued to see regularly were his old coworkers from the supermarket.

Liz hadn’t fared much better. Even if she’d been able to make any firm friends on Earth, she would have been torn away from them when her parents had suddenly taken her back to the homeworld. From what she had told him, she had been very close with her extended family back on Borealis, and she had formed a pack with half a dozen members who were unquestioningly loyal to her. Curiously, she didn’t talk about them all that much, and they had made no effort to contact her as far as he knew. Still, they were more than seventy light-years away, completely out of reach. For the six months or so between her return and their trip to Jarilo, he and Liz had been content to be alone together, and she didn’t seem very close with her fellow embassy workers.

Now, they were faced with an entirely new social group who all shared something in common. They were all here for the same reason. There was no need for awkward small talk, no need to come up with excuses to spend time together. If everything went well, Jamie and Liz would be coming here regularly, so it was a great opportunity to make some connections.

Schooling was a topic of conversation that came up a lot. Many of the parents had older children, and they were able to give Liz and Jamie some advice on where to enroll their kids when the time came. Since many of the children in the playgroup were of similar ages, it was likely that the kittens would be able to start out with a small group of friends when they began preschool, which was ideal. Hazel and Sammy especially seemed to be getting along marvelously. They hadn’t budged since they had been introduced, still poring over their picture books an hour later.

It began to grow late, Liz and Jamie saying their goodbyes to the remaining parents as they set out to corral the kittens. Save for an incident involving a pulled tail that had resulted in a few tears, the kids had all behaved themselves, and the organizer had invited them back for another play date the following week.