Free Origin by Jack Kilborn Page A

simpler being a hermit.
    She forced herself to finish breakfast and then put in some hard work at Red 3 with more enthusiasm than the mundane task warranted. Her current fixation—organizing the thousands of photographs—so absorbed her attention that when she checked the clock it was already a quarter after twelve. Bub’s lunchtime.
    Sun put some bounce in her step on the way to Orange 12, again hoping to bump into Andy. No such luck.
    She was quick and thorough in selecting and examining the sheep, but it didn’t hold the charm of the previous time with the linguist.
    “I’m acting like a school girl,” Sun chided herself. Why didn’t she just write him a love note and draw a heart on it and slip it in his locker?
    Sun led the hooded animal down the Red Arm. Dr. Belgium, who practically lived in Red 14, wasn’t around. She approached the habitat quietly, the only sound being the whirring fans of the Cray computer and the tap-tap of the sheep’s footfalls on the tile floor.
    Bub was squatting, his eyes closed and his arms on his haunches; a warped parody of the tai chi lotus. This was the position Bub slept in. She’d been recording his sleep patterns, and he took between ten and fifteen naps a day, never longer than twenty minutes each. All totaled, he slept about four hours daily. Far less than any animal she’d ever encountered.
    Even squatting, Bub was taller than Sun. She watched his massive chest undulate in waves, his many lungs taking in air at slightly different rates. As usual, seeing Bub filled her with a mixture of awe and fear. Sun clearly recalled their first meeting. She’d walked up to the habitat, so cocksure, and when Bub came out from behind the trees her legs gave out on her and she squealed in fright, much to Race’s amusement.
    The fact that Bub looked demonic was only part of the shock. What most impressed Sun was the creature’s size and obvious strength. It was like seeing a dinosaur up close. More than once Sun had wondered if that Plexiglas wall was truly strong enough to hold him.
    Sun leaned closer to the partition, her forehead almost touching it.
    “Sun is laaaaaate,”
Bub said, his voice remarkably clear coming from a mouth packed with so many teeth.
    The sheep screamed and bucked, and Sun was so startled she let go of the harness. The sheep ran off towards Dr. Belgium’s computers and barreled into a desk, upsetting papers and a coffee mug.
    Sun took back control of her faculties and chased after the sheep, one arm locking around its large woolly neck and the other pulling tight on the harness. After a few seconds of struggling and talking, she managed to calm the sheep down enough to tether it to a door handle.
    Bub watched the whole episode from his lotus position, his reptilian eyes keenly intelligent.
    Sun chose her words carefully.
    “I’m sorry. I was busy. Have you always known English?”
    “Yooooou are Sun,”
Bub said.
“That is luuunch.”
His voice was a throaty baritone, but soft and wet like a wheeze.
    “Right. My name is Sun Jones.”
    “Joooooones.”
    “Yes.”
    “Yessssss,”
Bub hissed.
    Sun approached the habitat slowly, unconsciously using the stalking approach that she’d used to get close to lions without spooking or threatening them.
    Her mind whirred. Even with all the conversations she and her cohorts had had in front of Bub, could he have picked up enough information to understand English?
    “Can you understand me, or just repeat what I say?”
    His hand raised up and a long claw uncurled from his fist, pointing at her.
“Suuuun Jooooones.”
He turned the talon on himself.
“Buuuuub.”
    Sun pointed at the sheep.
    “Luuuuunch,”
Bub said.
    She gestured over her shoulder, to the rear of the room.
    “Compuuuuuuter,”
Bub said.
“Craaaaaay. Four teraaaaabytes.”
    Sun blew out some air. Bub startled her by repeating the gesture.
    “Is Bub hungry?” Sun asked.
    “Hungry Buuuuub. Eeeeeat.”
The demon looked beyond