Page 10 of The Planetary Systems Preservation Committee Decided We Needed a Nanny

Lora: Your TV does not have audio input capability. Your home has six devices with audio input capability inside it currently, and since our arrival, you have never left your house without the one in your hand as you read this message.

Me: It’s supposed to be disturbing that my devices are listening to me, but I knew that when I bought them, and this is what I signed up for, sooooo… *shrug*

Lora: While you are with the doctor tomorrow, I will supervise your move. I will escort you to your new housing assignment afterward.

I love how he just tells me what he’s going to do.

Me: Is it unique to you or a species thing that you don’t ask permission?

Lora: It is perhaps both. Drones are permissive to breeders and breeders develop an expectation of cooperation from others.

Also Lora: I would ask permission from a breeder as they would me, but no one else. Since you are not a breeder, I did not think to ask.

Me: So, if I was a woman, you would have asked?

Lora: Yes.

Me: Good to know. See you tomorrow. Thank you for your help. And the drones. And maybe for the doctor appointment.

Lora: You are welcome. The doctor says Randy is acceptable.

***

Doctors have always been a little intimidating for me, especially as a man who regularly gets tested for STIs because I don’t like using condoms. Doctors can be really judgy about testing, which is weird because it's proper health protocol, right? Nurses are great though. Love nurses.

It just occurred to me that maybe the doctors are being judgy about not using condoms. Yes, I’m on PrEP, but that only covers one thing, and there’s a lot more than HIV out there.

Anyway.

Doctors are intimidating, but imagine sitting on a medical table that requires three steps up because your doctor is five-ish feet taller than you and could eviscerate you with a single swipe of his extra sharp claws. That’s Doctor Randy. He’s at least a foot taller than Lora and half again as wide. Lora is huge. Randy is huger. That’s not a real word, but it’s accurate.

“Good morning, Oliver Teakwood. You are my first human patient, but I am fully qualified to interpret the diagnostic charts that the medical suite will build from its analysis of your scans and testing. LoveOrderRenewalArtifice recommends an analysis of your health after the fluid exchange you participated in seven Earth standard days ago.”

Doctor Randy’s professionalism is almost a surprise, but then I remember how Lora is, and I decide I can probably just expect them to be formal in general. “I’m here to do whatever Lora thinks I need to do and whatever you recommend. I haven’t been to a doctor for more than my regular testing in a few years. I got a little tired of them always recommending I lose fifty pounds. If I could lose fifty pounds on a diet of cheese, I would, but since losing the weight would require giving up the cheese, I’m happy being a bear.”

Doctor Randy takes in my mini rant with professional aplomb. “I do not know the possible ranges for healthy humans yet. Please stand in the green circle for the scan, like so.” He indicates a large green circle and stands with his arms and legs slightly spread.

I take my place in the circle and a few moments later the green circle rises from the floor around me, emitting a subvocal buzz that makes my teeth feel weird in my head. It goes up and down three times, then Randy instructs me to place a finger on a little pad that the circle ejects from itself. I do, and a prick later the device has taken my blood. It lands back in the floor, and Randy moves to the output displays that appear on the wall.

It’s all very techy and sci-fi-y, and to be honest, I’m a little in awe of it all. Who knew I’d be living the Star Trek life?

I sit on the exam table again because standing around feels awkward. It’s a doctor’s office. I'm sure standing is fine, but I’ve been trained from the time I was a baby how to be a good patient, and good patients sit patiently. That’s a lot of that word in one sentence, isn’t it? Still, I’m not wrong.

Doctor Randy makes the noises of his language for ten minutes, uses the same forearm device that Lora has to make a call, and then after about twenty minutes of reading my chart, he finally turns to me, sits on his own chair, and smiles politely, keeping his pointed teeth behind his lips. “I am finished with the analysis of your data. You are in good health. The scans all appear within the range of normal for your genetic predispositions. You have developed immune cells for some of the most common bacteria ScaryDarkAlienVampires carry in their mouths, and we anticipate that most humans will adjust well to donating blood for our people because of you. Thank you for volunteering so early in the adjustment phase of the guardianship protocols. Normally we would wait until everyone is rehomed and settled into their new duties before introducing direct fluid exchange.”

I narrow my eyes a little at the doctor. “Do you normally take blood donations with your mouths?” The way he talks about it, it feels like maybe Lora biting me was… out of the ordinary.

“We do not normally put our mouths on our volunteers because it generally causes more pain than necessary.”

I would like to point out that I didn’t feel any pain at all. “Um.”

Dr. Randy rattles in acknowledgement. “Yes, you are right. Our—” He stops in the middle of his sentence and scrunches up his face like he just ate a lemon, rattling in disapproval. “Surely there is a better word than ‘breeder’ in your language that is not ‘woman’ since we are not male or female by Earth standards.” He rattles softly for a moment and looks a little distant before raising his arm device and doing the phone-a-friend thing Lora did the last time I had this conversation.

For a few minutes Dr. Randy and the person on the other end talk, and I can tell Dr. Randy is getting frustrated with how the conversation is going. Since I’m the English expert in the room (hopefully), I try to think of a better word for Lora’s sex designation.

It might be helpful if I understood how they procreated⁠—

Just how stupid is this conversation? I’m trying to designate Lora’s sex. What the fuck? Biologically he’s an alien who makes alien babies. His pronoun preference is he/him. What the fuck else could possibly matter? Words are useful for communication, but this is ridiculous.