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Payment in Kind

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I'd always loved the idea of space travel. After completing college with a minor in comparative biology all I could think of was getting assigned to a fringe space exploration outposts but my major in massage therapy wasn't exactly the same as xeno-medicine or even physical therapy. One of my friends made all the difference.

Pete wasn't Human but, seeing as a lot of my education involved the genetically altered animal people I didn't really look at him any differently than I would a Human; we were all from the Sol system after all, and our genetic structure was a lot closer than compared to some of the alien species. Besides, we were from two drastically different backgrounds so there were plenty of other things to focus on than race and the fact that he looked like a humanoid King Shepherd wasn't even a consideration in my mind.

Pete's folks had received a huge financial windfall after the company responsible for creating genetically altered species closed. As part of the settlement to all genetically engineered individuals, the corporation provided a few million credits and, since both of his parents were first-generation subjects they doubled up on their reparations... which meant that Pete never wanted for anything. My parents, on the other hand, were blue collar workers-- my dad died when I was a teenager in an asteroid mining incident and my mom did cleaning at a station hotel circling in low orbit around Europa.

We both went to the same university but Pete was there because his folks wanted him to get an education; I was there thanks to the payout my family received since my dad died on the job. Still, toward the end of my time there I was starting to think that I'd chosen the wrong major, but Pete wasn't about to let me give up; we'd talked a lot about going to deep space as part of a corporate project and, yet again, he had a leg up because a recruitment team made it a point to employ non-humans which he was-- and me, being Human, was not.

Corporate representatives showed up and spoke to the graduates about their newest installation in the Tau sector. Tau Delta was a space station circling the fourth planet in the primary system and they needed a combination of workers for military, industrial, and civil functions. Pete got snatched up right away but my approval was delayed almost two weeks and at that point I learned that my position on the station was actually financed by Pete himself.

I was so pissed at the time and I went to confront him. He let me rant and rave and shout for the better part of an hour but his explanation was simple: he was investing in my enterprise. Not only had Pete secured a spot for me in the civilian corp, he'd also reserved a storefront for me to serve as a massage therapist for staff and crew when they were off duty. I apologized, of course, but right after that we sat down and talked business; if he was investing then I needed to know the terms. He kept things simple.

I was going to run a proper business offering services onboard Tau Delta I'd be responsible for my own expenses and, since I was part of the civilian corp, other than a small living stipend I didn't technically get corporate employee pay which meant I'd have to make my own way. That was all fair, of course, and made sense. Pete also said that he expected the investment to pay out. The term on board was a ten year service agreement and, based on my projections I figured I'd be able to get him paid back after three. Plus interest, I'd promised. Things didn't quite turn out as expected.

The cost of doing business so far from core space wasn't something I was anticipating. Although the overhead for a massage therapist aren't all that bad when a lease is paid for there are other costs like oils, ointments, herbs, and, as it turned out, a maintenance fee paid for my spot on the station. I realized by the end of the second year that, even though business was booming, I'd be hard-pressed to pay Pete back.

Six months later I'd cut my own expenses back as much as I could and did everything I could to keep my schedule filled with appointments, which was not difficult since I was the only massage therapist on the station who accommodated all patients. I had regulars, some of whom came to see me three or four times a week-- Pete included. It was during one of those appointments when we finally had the talk; with five days to go I had to tell him that I would still be a few thousand credits short.

He just smiled and nodded before I heard his tail thwap out a soft beat on the massage table. "Yeah... the way you've been avoiding me lately I figured it was something like that."

His statement made me even feel more horrible and, although I tried to convince him that it wasn't anything like that I was pretty sure I failed; I certainly didn't succeed in convincing myself. But I also didn't want to make excuses-- I wanted to find solutions. "How about an extension for a few months?"

Although his smile was friendly it was also the kind you'd expect to see on a business-minded Dog. "Nah, man... gotta pay on time. That was our deal."

I knew I didn't have a right to DEMAND more time but I also didn't know how he expected me to pay him back if I didn't have the money. "But I--"

My wandering mind halted when he removed the towel on his crotch, revealing his thick sheath with his first few inches of bright red peeking out. His smile widened. "It's possible to find other forms of payment, bud."