Now For Some Tea, Eh? Cup of Good Federation Tea

“Please enjoy. I will go see to the guest room.” With a bow, Rosalie exited the dining room, leaving the three of us staring at gray, rubbery-looking slabs served on fine china. I took a sniff and found that it didn’t smell much different than the food dispensed by the village’s food synthesizers. It certainly looked different though.

“Dig in,” Oliver urged me, his mouth full. “It’s better than the emergency rations we’ve been eating.”

“But what is it?” I poked the slab with my chopsticks and recoiled as it wiggled on the plate.

“Same thing we ate at the village: artificial proteins and vitamins. Futarchy’s synthesizers aren’t as advanced. They can’t synthesize food in different appearances, but it tastes pretty much the same.”

Breaking off a chunk, I brought it to my lips. The texture was too chewy for my tastes, but it was warm, and Oliver was right: It tasted like home. My stomach growled for more, and I slid the rest of the slab down my throat in a single bite.

Rosalie returned, showed to the guest room, and then bid us goodnight. The room was nothing more than tatami mats and barely larger than a closet. Three futons had been crammed together on the floor. It was gonna be real intimate if we all tried to sleep in there, especially if Lea slept next to Oliver.

“We’ll sleep in shifts,” Oliver announced. “One person at a time. The others can keep watch on each other in the dining room to make sure we don’t all fall asleep at once.”

“What, just two hours each?” I asked.

Oliver shrugged. “Better than nothing. Besides, if all goes well, we’ll be here for a while with nothing to do but sleep the time away.”

We played roshambo for it. I decided to use the opportunity to see if I could slow time on demand and win the game. The first time I tried, it didn’t work, but we all threw paper, so I got a second chance. The second time, I tried to operate on pure instinct, letting my conscious thoughts go, and sure enough, I could see the movements of their fingers in slow motion. Using that advantage, I secured an easy win.

Probably should have given it to Lea—she looked more exhausted than either of us—but I figured I was doing them a favor by giving them some time alone.

When I woke up two hours later, however, the two of them were sitting at opposite ends of the table, looking anywhere but at each other. Yikes. Obviously, they’d had a big argument. As I entered the room, they both locked eyes with me and turned away.

Oh, they had been arguing about me.

Stretching her arms over her head, Lea let out a loud yawn. “I’m next.” She stood and brushed past me toward the bedroom. Pausing just before she entered the hallway, she shot one last glance at Oliver. “You can join me if you want.” Without waiting for him to reply, she disappeared around the corner.

“What are you smiling about?” Oliver asked me as I sat down in the chair Lea vacated.

“Dude, come on. You want her; she wants you. What are you afraid of?”

“She’s still grieving Apollo’s death. It wouldn’t be right.”

“We’re all grieving the big idiot, but she’s right: Our lives could end at any moment. Go to her tonight, tomorrow you may be dead.”

Honestly, I understood what he was getting at and even respected his feelings, but for the first time since leaving the village, I was having fun. Despite knowing full well that our illusion of safety could be shattered at any moment, the good vibes made the suitcase in my lap feel lighter, almost if it weren’t there.

Almost.

“With an attitude like that, you’ll make a great human.” Just like that, my mood popped like a balloon, and I once again felt the full weight of the nuke resting on my thighs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We only got away because Apollo died protecting us, and you don’t seem to care at all. That takes a hard heart. A human heart.”

“The other villagers died too, but I don’t see you crying over them.”

“We didn’t have time to mourn, but unlike the other villagers, he saved your life. Aren’t you even a little sad?”

“Look.” I sighed, mostly to buy time while I thought of how to phrase what I was about to say without coming off as a heartless monster. “Sure, he did good in the end, but he and I spent many years resenting each other. Those feelings don’t just go away overnight.”

“You resented him? Why?”

“How could I not? He embodied everything I hated about the village: lazy, stupid, and always on my case.”

“Huh.” Oliver blinked a few times. “When you put it that way, I guess the two of you were opposites. But I don’t think he would have joined us if he resented you. Nagging was just how he showed he cared.”

“Is that really how you saw it?”

“Yeah, though I guess I was predisposed to seeing him in the best light possible. I… looked up to him. Where you saw laziness and stupidity, I saw a man who knew what he cared about in life and didn’t let anything distract him from that.”

“Huh.” It was my turn to blink in surprise. “You idolized that no thoughts, head empty lifestyle?”

“If only it were that easy.” He sighed. “Maybe I was too hard on you just now. You had it rough in the village, but take it from me: If you can’t learn to be a bit more flexible, you’ll have just as hard a time in the city.”

“Flexible how?”

“Living with so many people requires constant compromise, and there’s a saying in the Federation: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. If you keep insisting that you’re human, you’re going to stick out.”

“So you also think I’m a cat.”

He held up a hand to stop me. “I think who you are matters more than what you are. Names are just labels, and everyone’s an individual. People will put all kinds of labels on you, and if you can’t learn to grin and bear it, you won’t last in human society.”

“That’s not very head empty of you.” The two of us shared a smile, though we were both too lost in thoughts of our own problems to be truly happy. “Speaking of, why are you still hanging around here when Lea invited you again?”

“When I was a kitten, my father—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got daddy issues and you’re afraid you’ll be a bad father. Bor-ing! Apollo wouldn’t have let a little thing like that get in the way of something he wanted to do. If you really wanna be like him, you shouldn’t either.”

Oliver scowled at me, his ears upright, then slid his smartphone across the table. “Keep yourself entertained. Don’t fall asleep, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pleased with myself for having finally gotten through to him, I snatched up my well-deserved prize as he left.
First thing I did was load up the Federation’s most popular anonymous image board and start trolling randoms. Ever since I first stumbled upon archives of this board in the village’s data repository, I’d been dying to make these clueless idiots lose their shit while I sat back and laughed my ass off. I was the only one who raged, though: None of them took the bait.

I quickly grew bored and decided to hit up the prediction market to see if there was anything entertaining being voted on but was stopped by a notification that trading had been suspended to prevent manipulation. With nothing to keep me engaged, I leaned back and closed my eyes, promising myself I wouldn’t sleep, just rest a bit. My eyelids felt as heavy as the nuke suitcase.

Hours later, I was awakened by clanging sounds coming from the kitchen. As I crept toward it, an unfamiliar scent wafted into the hallway. Peeking around the corner, I saw Rosalie pouring hot water from a kettle.

I was so surprised that I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Is that tea? I didn’t know they had it in the Futarchy.”

Rosalie jumped in surprise but quickly regained her composure and smiled at me. “Indeed it is. One of the few perks of working here is being able to enjoy delicacies from the Federation.”

I leaned against the doorframe. “I imagine it would take quite a few perks to make working for such an arrogant boss worth it.”

“You said it, not me.” She covered her widening smile with her hand to stifle a giggle. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure, as long as it’s not for permission to touch my ears.”

“Oh.” She tried to hide it, but I could tell she was disappointed. Why did all these humans want to touch my ears so much? Was there something about the gesture I didn’t understand? I had to admit I was curious, so with a deep sigh, I lowered my head.

“Fine. Just be gentle.”

My ear twitched as her fingers made contact, causing her to pull her hand back, but when I didn’t say anything, she tried again. Once I got over the initial embarrassment, a wave of disgust washed over me. Humans didn’t do this to each other. They only wanted to touch my ears because I was some kind of animal to them.

But I couldn’t deny that, on a physical level, the feeling of her hand rubbing between my ears felt pleasant. Was this why kids in anime and manga liked headpats so much? To my horror, a purr escaped from my throat.

A stifled laugh reached my ears from down the hallway, and I pulled away so fast that Rosalie let out a yelp of surprise. Lea was standing at the edge of the hallway with an expression that screamed, who’s a cat now? Oliver rounded the corner behind her, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin I’d ever seen on him.

Curious about the commotion, Rosalie stuck her head out of the kitchen. “You’re all up early. Would you like breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” Oliver answered, seemingly oblivious to the situation he’d just walked into.

Unlike the food slabs we’d had for dinner, Rosalie set before us a Federation-style breakfast: Steamed rice, miso soup, grilled fish, vegetables, and tea. It was a meal I’d seen many times in photos and videos, but never one I’d had the pleasure of tasting. Immediately, I started shoveling rice into my mouth but found the grains sticky and hard to swallow, so I reached for the tea.

“Ow!” As soon as the tea touched my tongue, I spit it back into the cup.

“Careful, Sprout.” Oliver’s warning came too late. “Our tongues are too sensitive for hot foods and drinks. Blow on it a bit to cool it down.”

“You don’t seem to be having trouble,” I pointed out.

“Nature vs. nurture. I’m used to it.” To emphasize his point, he tipped his cup, swallowing the contents in a single gulp.

Taking his advice, I blew on the tea and was about to try again when the smartphone, which was lying where I left it on the table, lit up, and the notification caught my eye. I held it up toward Lea and Oliver. “What the hell? There’s a new market open on whether or not killing nekomimi counts as a crime.”

Lea put her cup down and took the phone from me. “Damn humans, they’re always—”

She was cut off by retching noises coming from Oliver’s throat. His face turned deep blue as he pointed to Lea’s teacup. Thinking that he was choking on food and needed some liquid, I offered him my cup, but he grabbed it from me and dumped the contents onto the floor. He reached for Lea’s teacup, but before he could take it, he collapsed onto the table.

I ran up behind him and attempted the Heimlich maneuver, but his body was completely limp, so I placed my hand on his neck. Fear and rage fought for control of Lea’s expression as I delivered the news.

“There’s no pulse. He’s dead.”