He swatted his hand in front of his face without opening his eyes. “Quit it, Carl,” he said. He immediately dropped back into sleep.

Poke.

Holloway grunted and turned in his cot, away from his offending and offensive poking dog.

Poke.

This time the poke was on the back of his head. Holloway grunted and attempted a swat but ended up mostly just waving his arm around.

Poke.

This poke to the head occurred roughly at the same time a thought penetrated the fuzzy cotton batting in Holloway’s brain: Since when does Carl, face-licker extraordinaire, poke? It took another moment or two for the implications of that thought to settle in.

At which point, Holloway hollered and levitated himself as far off his cot as possible, coming down badly into the space between the cot and the cabin wall. The half of his body still on the cot leveraged the thing down, toppling it and swinging the cot forward into his face. Only his flying pillow kept him from a gash on his forehead.

The cat thing, standing to the side of where the cot used to be, watched all of this with interest. When the carnage was done, it looked over at Holloway and blinked.

“Jesus!” Holloway said, to the creature. “How did you get in?”

How did it get in? Holloway glanced up at the window above where his cot should be; it was firmly closed, as were all the other windows in the cabin. The door was likewise closed. There was no way that fuzzy little bastard could get in, unless …

“Carl!” Holloway called, and looked out into the cabin from the sleeping alcove.

Carl peeked his head around the work desk, his best oh crap I better not make eye contact look on display.

“You let this thing in, didn’t you?” Holloway said. “You went to your dog door and let him walk right through. Admit it.”

Carl offered an apologetic tail thump and hid.

“Unbelievable,” Holloway said. He glanced down at the cat thing again, which appeared serenely unconcerned about the entire domestic drama unfolding around it.

There was a ping. Holloway looked around the chaos of his sleeping alcove and found his infopanel on the floor next to his small nightstand. He’d been reading survey reports on it before he went to sleep. Now someone was calling him on it. Holloway picked up the infopanel and slapped it to life, audio only.

“What?” he said.

“Jack?” Isabel said. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“I was up,” Holloway said, looking at the cat thing.

“Jack, that video you gave me,” Isabel said. “Is it real?”

“What?” Holloway said.

“I mean, this is video you took, right? It’s not something you found on the network somewhere,” Isabel said.

“It’s mine,” Holloway said. “You should recognize the cabin, Isabel.”

“I know, sorry,” Isabel said. “It’s just … well. Jack. Whatever this thing is on the video, no one’s seen it before.”

“You don’t say,” Holloway said. By this time the cat thing, bored with watching him, had started walking around the cabin like it owned the place.

“There’s nothing like it in the archives, even,” Isabel said. “Which is admittedly not saying much; it’s not as if ZaraCorp ever does anything more than the absolute minimum required by an E and E charter, and they’re focused on sapience detection anyway.”

“Uh-huh,” Holloway said. The cat thing had wandered over to Carl and put a hand on Carl’s muzzle, stroking it. Carl thumped his tail and then glanced over guiltily to Holloway.

“That’s right, you traitor,” Holloway said.

“What?” Isabel said.

“Sorry,” Holloway said. “Talking to Carl.”

“What I’m saying is that even in the archives there’s no evidence of a creature like this,” Isabel said, continuing on. “We have data on a few mammal-like creatures, basically rodents, and one of the flying creatures here is mostly mammal-like. But nothing even comes close to this. How big was this creature, Jack?”

Holloway looked at the creature, which had made its way into the kitchen area. “It’s about the size of a cat, I’d say,” he said. “A big cat. Like a Maine Coon. If you stood the cat up on its hind legs.”

“So it was primarily bipedal,” Isabel said. “I mean, so far as you observed it.”

The cat thing was climbing up one of the chairs at the kitchen nook table. “I’d say so.”

“That’s unusual too,” Isabel said. “All the other mammal-like creatures here are quadrupeds. Except the flying one. Did you see it use its hands? Did it show any significant manual dexterity?”

The cat thing, by now on the seat of the chair, flung itself toward the kitchen counter, grabbed it at the edge, and deftly pulled itself up.

“Some,” Holloway said.

“Do you know how unusual this creature is, Jack?” Isabel said.

“I’m getting the idea,” Holloway said. The cat thing had by now reached its destination, which was the plastic bell Holloway kept his fruit under. Holloway maneuvered himself out of his sleeping alcove and walked toward his kitchen. “It sounds like you’re pretty excited about it, at least.”

“I am,” Isabel said. “A new, large mammal like this in a faunasphere that’s primarily reptilian in nature is a significant find. Really significant. It just doesn’t happen that often.”

“Looks like you finally hit your big score,” Holloway said, intentionally echoing the words Isabel used with him the last time they’d seen each other. He’d reached the kitchen. The cat thing was looking at him, and then looking at the fruit bell, as if to say, Get that for me, would you.

“No,” Isabel said. She hadn’t noticed Holloway’s choice of words. “No offense, Jack, but your security camera video could easily be faked.”

“I didn’t fake it,” Jack said. He lifted the bell off the fruit.

“I know you didn’t,” Isabel said. “That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is I can’t use it as evidence or proof. Video is too easy to tamper with or change. This isn’t a secure-grade recording. If I submitted this as evidence, I’d get laughed at.”

The cat thing reached into the fruit plate and lifted out the bindi, using both hands. “So what are you saying?” Holloway asked.

“Jack, do you think the creature is still in the area?” Isabel asked. “Somewhere close by, I mean.”

The cat thing walked the bindi over to Holloway and set it down in front of him.

“Probably,” Holloway said.

“I want to come out,” Isabel said.

“Excuse me?” Holloway said. This statement distracted him completely away from the cat thing. “For a second there it sounded like you actually said you wanted to come out here.”

“Yes,” Isabel said.

“You,” Holloway said. “Out here. Near me.”

Isabel sighed. “Jack,” she began.

“Wait, scratch that,” Holloway said. “Not near me. With me. Because you’d have to stay with me. Unless you fancied camping with the raptors.”

“Are you enjoying yourself, Jack?” Isabel said.

“Maybe,” Holloway said.

The cat thing reached over and poked Holloway in the side to get his attention. Holloway looked over. What? He mouthed silently to the creature.

The cat thing lifted the bindi again and set it down again, and then looked at Holloway with a look that betrayed impatience. Holloway suddenly remembered that the last time he’d given the thing some bindi, he’d sliced up the fruit. The animal was waiting for its slices.

“Pushy thing, aren’t you,” Holloway said. He reached into his drawer to retrieve a knife.

“I thought you might want to help me, Jack,” Isabel said. “Considering you gave me the video in the first place.”

Holloway realized Isabel thought that last comment was directed at her. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that the way you took it.” He set down the infopanel and reached for the bindi.

“Look, Jack,” Isabel said. “I know we ended things badly, and I know you’re still upset with me about it. And I admit I didn’t help things at the end. But I thought we’d gotten over that enough that we can be friends. Actual friends, as opposed to the ‘polite in public’ sort of friends. Right? So I’m asking you as a friend if you’ll help me out with this.”