Free Predators and Prey: A Short Story by Christopher Holliday Page A

these
days."
"They took you, didn't they?" He laughs at his own wit, showing
perfect white teeth that must have cost his family a fortune. He knows I paid a
premium for University citizenship and an apprenticeship, he just doesn't care to remember. "Speaking of apprenticeship, how about
cleaning up under those cages and tossing the Grats some chow before you start some studying?"
    Duncan's
five years my junior, but had the luck to be born into a family that could
afford to put him through school. He's really not a bad guy, and most of the
time, we get along fine. As my resident mentor, when I'm not sleeping, in class,
or cleaning the lab, he's teaching me the ins and outs of this semi-terrestrial
biosphere.
    It's
not his fault that when I signed up for the outbound quickship I had this vivid picture in my mind of raising animals—cows, pigs, chickens and
stuff—on a sunny agro-world, apprenticed as a veterinarian or something
similar. I should have researched the specific meaning of Xenobiology ,
and the Indigenous Adaptation Department, just a little more thoroughly. And I
should have verified that the University province here on Symphonie housed
something more than a colony of penal-program refugees.
    Four
of the wall cages hold Grats , dumpy little fungus
eaters squatting like fat Chihuahuas. They make a ' squirp , squirp ' appeal when I pick up the mushroom bucket and
fill their trough. Three of them are keepers; Duncan's doing a pheremonal study on them to see how they attract each other
when they mate, without attracting the Parrons .
Natural selection has left them one of the few indigenous surface dwelling
animals larger than a lab mouse.
    The
fourth Grat will find its way into the Parron cage
sometime this week, where it will be picked to the bone in a matter of moments.
Having seen it once, it's something I have no need to see again.
    "You
know," Duncan says, gesturing at the Parron pinned and splayed upon the
table, "almost half of the brain nodes in these things are dedicated to
smell. That mass just back of the lung is basically the nose. Cut it out and
they starve."
    "Amazing,"
I say without enthusiasm. I have more pressing interests and concerns.
    The
lower cages are mini-habitats, with clever dust-gray rodents that pop their
heads from their holes when I tap the sides. They sniff, turn over, and use
long tails to curl and scoop the mix of seeds and nuts down behind them. I envy
them the safety of their homes.
    So
much for my fresh start.
    I
finish the feeding, sweep and dispose of the crap and tell Duncan I need to
head out again for a little while.
    "This
is really bugging you, isn't it?"
    I nod.
"You have no idea."
    "Well,
let me know if I can help." He pulls down his goggles and gets back to his
work.
    Outside,
the drizzle has tapered off, and the night sky looks like it might even start
to clear. I've never understood why the city isn't domed instead of netted. It
would make more sense during the rainy season. I pull out my comcard and access my directory. Of the twenty names I have
listed for this world, none are worth a damn.
    I'd
purposely severed all connections with the old business. Necessity can
sometimes make for odd first careers; unfortunately I hadn't had the good
fortune to be gifted with a lack of a conscience. Seeing living corpses curled
in piles of filthy rags, strung out on the chemical of the month . . . well, it
hadn't set well with me. Even when the money was good, and chemical
splice-houses were seeing to my every worldly whim, I couldn't sleep. "Drugs
don't kill people, people kill people," they used to joke when they saw my
discomfort and concern.
    I
avoided the puddles as I started up the block toward the food district. Up
ahead, I thought I saw a bulky form separate from the lamppost on the corner
and slip into the shadows beyond. I didn't look too closely. That Rizzo would
have at least one of the boys watching me was no real surprise.
    I'd
known someone was on to me for at least