It was a fairly crowded car, if I’m being honest. William and Rebecca were fine, taking the front two seats. Fauve, however, was smushed between Boatswain and Byron… they both took their responsibility for protecting her very seriously.

  You may be wondering why that is, well the threats had tapered off quite a bit, the very public trials, the jail sentences or the ‘simulated’ punishments, did quite a bit too dull the nerves of hostile people.

  But every now and then…?

  For all the verve and vigor, she showed, I sometimes caught a hint that something new came in. Our other two guards of whom I have written little, were little written of precisely because they often paid ‘visits’ to those responsible. Fauve would forward a message, say it was nothing, but then our guards would be reduced for hours or even days.

  Then they would be back again. I was not privy to the nature of what was said, and to my shame I was too cowardly to ask. But whatever it was, Boatswain and Byron knew. They knew and did not like it. As such, when we traveled together, she had at least one hulking guardian with her.

  But just now she was a trifle ‘smushed’ between them.

  My sister took a place by the door, and at the suggestion of Rebecca, Captain Bonny Red chose to seat herself in the most logical place. She seemed quite surprised that the Captain agreed, but then again, dlamisans are a practical lot and short of the trunk, there weren’t any other options if we were all going to share a car. So, Bonny Red claimed the only reasonably available space there was.

  My lap.

  The one bothersome thing about it was, she left her hat on. I did ask her why, but she said according to the musical artists of Earth, a woman should always leave her hat on. To this day I do not know what she was talking about. She refused to apologize or explain or apologize for not explaining.

  But every now and then I would tell the story, and some human would find it utterly hilarious…and likewise refuse to explain.

  Suffice it to say that the hat was oversized and blocked my view of the road, and I will admit her tail felt quite good. Life on Earth is full of little tradeoffs.

  We, by which I mean the dlamisans in the car, were well aware we were drawing close to the food before the humans were. The city of Louisville has always had a reputation for good food and great variety, even centuries before the present it was a unique ‘international’ place within an otherwise quiet and insular state.

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  Nowhere is this more evident than in their dining. I previously wrote about the omnivorous nature of humans, but since I must be honest for the record, I had very little experience with it. I tried a handful of dishes at the University dining facility and I have had the occasional pastry at the Heine Brothers coffee shop, but on the whole I preferred Rebecca or William’s cooking… I suppose I just wasn’t that adventurous.

  I also didn’t really realize what I was missing. The endless variety of cultural contributions combined into a sea of smells that besieged our senses as the car took us deeper into the city. Like most major cities this one had what might be simply referred to as a ‘food strip’ or ‘restaurant district’. Simply put, if your food can’t ‘make it’ there, it certainly can’t make it somewhere else.

  As a major transportation hub, the airlines constantly brought new customers into the city and most restaurants of any means made sure the travelers knew where to find them.

  Those with fewer means had young people standing outside with food samples or signs, ‘greeters’ encouraging customers to walk inside. With our sensitive noses every kind of spice and herb we never knew existed was assaulting our senses, human cars were not very good for allowing our tails to express happiness, but that did not stop them from trying.

  The place we chose to eat had been an established part of barbecue dining in Louisville since the twenty-first century, and I had been dying to try it ever since the first evening escorting the crew of the Red Spark out…when one of their drunken crew members and their military escort stumbled back to formation slathered in sweet barbecue sauce that probably took hours to clean out of her fur.

  The establishment, ‘Babie Bac’z’ was a family affair. You may have noticed this routine nepotistic habit of humans. Teresa took over her grandfather’s business and while she mentored Fauve, I fully expected that she would pass the business on to a relative of her own. Mavis was learning from her father how to take on the role of a coach for the Cardinals football team. Percival’s son joined his business with intent to one day inherit it.

  So, it was with the restaurant business, this one in particular. The family which ran it, carried it on through good times and bad for hundreds of years, down into the present and became an institution in its own right. The odd dynamic of human nature is such that while they love the new to the point of being mad for it, they also steep themselves in traditions, protecting ancient historical sites, books, objects, and occasionally, even people.

  Yes, certain ‘people’ were designated as treasures because of their skills in particular arts. In Japan it was the ability to create certain dyes, in France it was a family of winemakers. In this particular city, a single chef was designated to be a treasure for his ability to prepare food in a long, long tradition.

  And that was where I was taking us. Was it perhaps unethical to use University money on an extravagant evening out on the basis that it was ‘research’? You could argue perhaps that it was.

  You could also argue that it was my own petty revenge at my department for considering recalling me and taking me away from my family and thus causing us all to worry. I daresay that it was comeuppance and perhaps a little bit of assimilation into my new home that led to my decision to have one extravagant evening out on expensive barbecue.

  Either way, I was looking forward to it, and… since I am forced to be completely honest and I know she will not object… I suppose I didn’t mind being a seat for at least a little while.