Fauve broke the hug to go and get the door, it swung open and she stood there with a bright smile on her face. She then opened the second door within the door…

  I must hesitate here as this is a subject of frequent questions. The door within a door is referred to by humans as a ‘storm door’ meant to protect the inner door from the outside world. Earth you see, is a deathworld. A very high extinction rate, one of the largest in the known galaxy to harbor intelligent life, and some areas where humans settle are subject to horrific storms which flood communities in water, lava, ash, mud, snow, or rocks. Rivers overflow their banks, seas sweep far into land, almost whole nations are sometimes swept clean.

  As such, humans in this part of the world use two doors as opposed to one for extra security. More than one of my species…and others, have run face first into them when not properly brief to look to make sure both doors are open.

  Bau it seems, was briefed, or figured it out the hard way as when Fauve opened the red wooden door, she remained at the entrance awaiting invitation to come in. My half-sister did look like a female version of myself, a slight build and with a mix of red and dark hair, interestingly, she chose to dress in the fashion of a human female. A long blue skirt hung down just past her knees and a shirt that buttoned up just below the neck.

  “Hi! You must be Bailey’s sister!” Fauve’s enthusiasm seemed to catch her by surprise and she looked over toward me just as I stood up from the couch.

  I nodded to give her some encouragement, I didn’t want my Fauve getting a poor impression after all, and Bau went with it.

  “Yes.” She answered and when the clear door was pushed open, Bau stepped within.

  To my surprise, Bau actually extended her hand to Fauve in a human gesture of greeting.

  Fauve accepted the handshake and then used the ‘house intercom’ which is to say she turned her head over her shoulder and shouted as loud as she could, “Mom! Dad! She’s here!”

  Bau’s jaw dropped at the noise and she immediately looked my way. “Are they always that loud?”

  “If someone is far away, yes.” I answered her and then put away my datapad. Since we were going out I chose to wear normal human clothing, slacks, standard button up shirt with short sleeves, both tan in color. Nothing that stood out… other than the fact that I happened to be an alien.

  “Oh, come on, it’s not that loud.” Fauve answered with a roll of her eyes as she made way for Bau to enter the room, she looked around, swiveling her head like a twisty chair.

  “You say that. But you,” Bau answered and ran her fingers from both hands up and down her furry ears, “don’t have eight of these.”

  “Alright, that’s fair.” Fauve said with a shrug.

  “Are you…rich?” Bau asked as she looked around the living room, the fireplace, the wall of old bookshelves, the painting of the sea in the dark of night that was so vivid you could almost hear the waves rolling in.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She looked at the couch and the workstation with its complex array of computer equipment in the corner all neatly arrayed. “I never lived like this on Dlamias, and I don’t know anyone who did. What about you, brother?” Bau asked me with a bite to the last word that would have snapped a bone if it had been in her jaws.

  “No. Other than the standard computer equipment, but this isn’t the whole house either. This is just one room.” I explained, and Bau’s jaw dropped again.

  “Wait, this is not a multidwelling?!” She exclaimed; her entire body went stiff just as William strode in with the others in tow.

  “No, and we’re not rich. We’re ‘well off’. But in our terms we’re just ‘upper middle class’. Well… she’s rich.” He pointed at Fauve, who blushed.

  “Dadu…am not… yet.” Fauve mumbled, her face going a brighter red when my sister looked at her again.

  Bau cocked her head at the nearly fifteen-year-old human, “Is this a joke? I still haven’t gotten good at telling when humans are being humanous.”

  “Humorous.” I corrected my sister just before Rebecca explained.

  “No, it’s not a joke,” she said while bouncing a giggling Michael on her hip, “she inherited several million credits from Percival Barnum recently, it’s in trust until she comes of age, then she’ll be rich.”

  “Child exploitation for the win!” William shouted with mock glee and thrust his index finger triumphantly skyward.

  “Daaaadu?” Fauve said reprovingly and fixed his grinning face with a mock glare.

  I have to add at this point that the Walker family was able to laugh at things like this precisely because they would never actually do them. Because they loved one another, they could laugh, tease, and joke in ways that might disturb, upset, or frighten someone else. If someone actually suggested to William that he try to seize Fauve’s assets for his own use, or suggested it to Rebecca, I am fairly sure violence might ensue.

  By the same token, Fauve would never have left her parents destitute if they were in need. While humans do have a significant capacity for greed, when they care for one another, no amount of money matters to them when set against the welfare of the one they care for.

  Fauve saw no need to protect herself from her parents' natural human avarice, because her parents did their job in protecting her from the world.

  Thus? They could joke about something awful, and it wouldn’t occur to any of them that they were serious.

  My sister however, stared at Fauve, agog. “S-S-S-Several million credits?! Like, real credits, right? Like ‘spend what you want when you want and live comfortable forever kind of credits?!”

  “Yes.” Fauve answered.

  “And you… this… how…?” Bau blinked her big brown eyes over and over again as if she were trying to wake herself up from a dream.

  “Aye lass,” Bonny Red said and gave her head a shake, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but that’s how it is here. This isn’t Dlamias with ‘just enough’ of everything. I’ve been traveling the cosmos for over fifty years, visited a lot of worlds, met a fair few humans on some of those. And humans are big believers in prosperity and increasing the quality of life. They may not live long, but they pack a lotta livin in all those years. I’d take fifty years livin like a human over six hundred as a dlamisan.”

  Bau swallowed the lump in her throat. “So… where do you all sleep, do I even dare to ask?”

  “We all have our own rooms.” Fauve answered, “Except mom and dad, they share one.”

  “But this is the exception, right?” Bau asked, staring dumbly at what I had to admit was by dlamisan standards, absurd levels of luxury.

  “Not really. Yes and no, I guess?” William answered, “Soldiers get tighter quarters mostly, and some cities are too crowded for this, but your average apartment is just a smaller version of this to one degree or another.”

  “So…” Bau drew her fingers along her snout and seemed to be at a loss for words.

  I can only assume she was about to say something about where she had been living for the last few weeks. But she didn’t get the chance, and by the time I remembered to ask, she had long since forgotten.

  Whatever it was, the sound of several bellies rumbling at once, including her own, interrupted those thoughts and both Fauve and Bonny Red spoke for the rumbling stomachs of us all.

  “Let’s eat!” She exclaimed and pointed toward the door as if we’d gotten lost on our way to it, which in a way, I suppose we had.