It’s been just a little over a week and things have settled into a routine aboard ship.
Attalla spends the mornings in his quarters. He remains social during this time, his door is always open and I am pleased to say he is a neatnik – his bed is always made. He passes the morning hours at his desk doing whatever diplomats do on the NET. He looks up every time I pass and we exchange greetings. The late morning he spends on the treadmill running helmeted to one of the vids Ma-rye-a downloaded for him. After that, he showers and joins me for lunch.
I have found he works up quite an appetite running and prefers his big meal in the middle of the day. He likes a lighter meal in the evening, which is fine with me.
Afternoons I spend with my crew going over items of interest both regarding the ship and current verse affairs. Sometimes Attalla joins us. Sometimes he goes back to his quarters to resume his work on the NET.
After dinner we might play games, talk or watch vids in the lounge. When Chee’s stomach wakes her from her daily slumber she emerges from her pouch. Attalla feeds her what he has put aside for her during the day. If anything is tossable, he will throw it for Chee to scamper or lunge after. I have seen her leap up to ten feet to capture a flying nut. It is like she has springs in her legs.
Once she is finished with her meal she starts to investigate every nook and cranny in whichever room we are in. Doesn’t make any difference that she has done it the night before, it is all new to her. I have taken to leaving empty boxes out in the kitchen rather than putting them immediately in the incinerator. She delights in any receptacle she can climb into. When she couldn’t find anything at first, she would curl up in the fruit bowl on the table.
Once Chee has looked over everything thoroughly within the room she settles down on Attalla’s chest, curled up in a nest of his chest hair, her tiny hands wrapped in his curls. I breathe deeply at this point and wished I was a mahserg.