Free Under the Eye of God by David Gerrold Page A

“Please don’t kill me. Can’t you eat something else?” Naye-Ninneya believed that prey should have the good manners not to speak as it died—a simple squeal perhaps, but not a soliloquy.
    Ota glanced to Robin. “Get the pups some water, please,” it whispered. Robin nodded and went quickly to the service bay; she returned with a pail of water, a dipper, and a detached expression. As she approached the first cage, all the pups began wagging their tails excitedly and squealing in eager anticipation. “Wa-wa! Wa-wa!”
    â€œAll right, all right—” called Robin. “Everybody calm down. You’ll all get wa-wa. I have plenty—”
    Abruptly, Captain Naye-Ninneya stepped deliberately into her way. Robin looked up— and up —to meet his black emotionless gaze. He towered over her darkly. “Did I order water for these animals?” he asked, his voice rumbling harshly.
    â€œWa-waa. Pwease. Wa-waaa. Now.” The puppies cried insistently.
    â€œWhy do you deny them water?” Robin asked innocently, keeping her voice purposely bland, and betting that the Dragon did not have the experience to recognize the full range of humanoid emotions, especially not the coy pretense of naïveté. “I thought your master commanded you to protect her property. What value do you add by starving and abusing these poor children?”
    â€œPwease. Waa-waaaa—pwease.” As if to underline Robin’s point, all six of the puppies had climbed to their feet, and had begun reaching through the bars of their cages, clawing and crying.
    Naye-Ninneya ignored it. He’d ignored worse. “If you water them,” he explained, “they will only urinate all over themselves and their cages. They will stink. They will offend the sensibilities.”
    â€œSo, wash them.” Robin smiled and batted her eyes. “You do know how to wash, don’t you?”
    â€œDragons don’t wash—” Naye-Ninneya snarled.
    â€œSo we’ve noticed,” Gito called from his position by the wall. He sniffed distastefully. Ota poked him sharply; Gito stepped sideways out of her reach, but he muted his disdainful expression.
    Naye-Ninneya rumbled warningly. His orders didn’t extend to cover insubordination by the starship crew. He didn’t know if he had a license to kill this insolent servant or not. Better just to play it safe, he thought. He looked down at Robin and let the tone of his voice show his contempt, “Do you plan on accompanying us so you can attend to the washing? If so, by all means, give them water. If not, take it away.”
    Robin looked startled, as if she had just realized something. “You honestly don’t care about their suffering, do you?”
    â€œSuffering builds character. It adds flavor to the meat.” Behind him, the puppies began to weep.
    The android looked unconvinced. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t eat meat.”
    For some reason, Naye-Ninneya felt uncomfortable. Defensive. It puzzled him. He shouldn’t feel that way in front of prey. He puffed out his chest. “The animals can wait until they reach the kennels downside. They will have water and grooming then.”
    â€œIf they sicken, or worse, if they die, your master will blame us for insufficient care. Let me give them water now. And baths. We’ll clean their clothes and deliver them to the landing shuttle in a much happier state.”
    The Captain of the Lady Zillabar’s Dragons considered the thought. It made good sense; but if he followed the android’s suggestion, he would look weak. The prey used a word to justify weakness; they called it compassion . “No,” he decided. “I cannot allow it. My orders do not permit the animals out of my supervision.”
    â€œStay and watch then,” Robin suggested. She forced herself to focus on the Dragon, otherwise the plight of the caged puppies might