Chapter 7

[20XX June 1st]

Yesterday’s conflict did not negatively impact the relationship between my shelter provider and me. In fact, I feel our relationship has grown even more harmonious.

Today, the shelter provider brought back many items of unclear purpose: some could be assembled into a tall perch, with hemp ropes wrapped around the pillar-like supports that seemed perfect for sharpening the claws of my mimetic form; others were slender rod-like objects with feathers and metal bells at the top, though I haven’t yet figured out their function.

“These are all for you.”

The shelter provider’s goodwill was so overwhelming that I decided to find a way to reciprocate this precious sincerity.

[20XX June 2nd]

After the shelter provider left for work, I entered his bedroom and turned on his computer.

To repay the shelter provider, I first needed to clarify one thing: on Earth, what motivates the dominant species to provide shelter for weaker species, and what is the nature of the relationship between the shelter provider and the protected?

The information I had previously downloaded should contain the answer to this question, but my desire to respond to the shelter provider’s kindness was so urgent that I couldn’t patiently wait for the Universal Translator Module to activate before conducting my search.

My experience restoring the shelter provider’s browsing history to familiarize myself with primitive network operations had taught me that there was a webpage where I could post my question, and other members of the dominant species would provide answers online. These answers were often concise and to the point, making them ideal for someone like me, who only had basic translation functions running.

I hoped my accumulated vocabulary over the past few days would be sufficient to understand the responses I received.

XX Knows

[?] I took a cat home, gave it food and water, and cleaned its litter box. What is our relationship?

Asker: Dedicated Alias

[…] Answers

Six Cents Plus Six Cents | Level 1

You are the owner, it is the pet.

Sister Look Here | Level 14

You are the slave, it is the master.

God Crushes Dog | Level 5

Another Earthling conquered.

The Meow Star People have invaded Earth.

Stupid humans.

…Has my identity been exposed?!

A sense of crisis made the fur on my mimetic form instantly bristle, but reason and logic firmly rejected this thought the moment it appeared: I am not a Meow Star Person, nor do I intend to do anything to the shelter provider.

There are no traces of other Starfarers on this planet—I had confirmed this before my ship’s orbital maneuver failed. On an undeveloped planet like this, untouched by external civilizations, my identity couldn’t possibly be discovered unless I exposed it myself.

Yes, it’s impossible to be discovered.

But what if… No! Such a hypothesis doesn’t exist!

Even if the dominant species were aware of the existence of external civilizations, they still wouldn’t be able to detect me: my mimicry remains flawless, and the shelter provider’s assistance has minimized my contact with the outside world. My environment is safe.

—Until I understand the social culture of this planet’s species (especially the dominant species), I have decided not to take a single step outside the shelter provider’s nest.

[20XX June 3rd]

The shelter provider left the nest again today, but I didn’t use his computer this time.

I still firmly believe I haven’t been exposed, but I intend to proceed with even greater caution.

I spent a considerable amount of time analyzing the responses I received yesterday. Aside from the last one, which was a mistaken judgment about my identity and purpose for visiting Earth, the other replies did provide some useful information: “owner,” “pet,” “slave.”

The simple semantics provided by the translation function quickly ruled out the third keyword.

The remaining two terms seemed to fit my situation well.

I think I must be the shelter provider’s “pet,” and he is my “owner.”

The owner-pet relationship isn’t difficult for me to understand—after all, my Biocomputer and I could be considered to have a similar dynamic: I provide it with energy, and it fulfills my needs.

But a new question arises: I can choose whether to replace my computer, and I can decide whether it exists or not. I control everything about it, including its life and death—so what about the shelter provider? Does he also have the authority to decide my fate?

[20XX June 4th]

The question has been answered: the owner has the right to terminate the care of their pet.

This answer didn’t come from the internet. The shelter provider didn’t go to work today, and during his call with Brother Zhao, I overheard a tragic story about a pet being abandoned by its owner after falling out of favor.

I have to admit, I’ve started to feel uneasy about my own situation.

[20XX June 4th]

The information I’ve encountered over the past few days has made me forget my original intention of “repaying the shelter provider’s kindness.”

Now, I’m more focused on “how to meet the shelter provider’s needs so I can continue staying safely in the nest.”

From the moment we met, it has always been the shelter provider fulfilling my (or rather, the mimetic species’) various needs. He has never proactively made any demands of me, and my lack of understanding of interspecies relationship culture makes it impossible for me to discern what he might want.

After carefully weighing the pros and cons, I once again postponed the Biocomputer’s restructuring plan: aside from the urgently needed Universal Translator Module, the activation sequence for Telepathy has also been elevated to top priority.

As I made these decisions, the shelter provider was sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Chocolate,” he called to me, patting his thigh lightly with his palm, “come here?”

I obediently climbed onto his lap.

He applied slight pressure on my back, and I compliantly lay down.

“You’re so well-behaved today? Came right over when called.” The shelter provider scratched the soft fur behind my neck.

I allowed the mimetic form to emit a contented purr while calculating the time needed for energy accumulation.